Jack and Runes
by Miss.Nix08
Summary: Val is the icy bartender that Dante just can't seem to get enough of-even though she can't stand the sight of him. But when the wrath of Mundus threatens Val's very life, can she swallow her pride and let the young Nephilim be her warrior? Or is this death by hybris? *Yes, this is reboot/My skewed version of the story*DanteXOC because why not? *I am offensive & vulgar. Sorry :)
1. Jack and Hate

My rantings: So I do this to escape all the things that poke at the edges of my crazy... I hope it helps you all escape too ;)

I am editing and re-vamping this because perfectionism.

It is important to note that two stories lines are congruently taking place. Pay attention to the context clues and /././././././. I try to make it as clear as possible with all my writing prowess haha

Ok now read to your literal hearts content. Ready. Set. Read ;)

/././././././././././././././.

"I fucking swear, Val, if you let yourself just crawl into a hole and wither away now, I will never forgive you." Dante threw his coat on the floor as he made a crazed rush for the bed. He began pulling on me, trying like all hell to pry me from the tomb I was destined to cling to. It pissed me off so I dug in deeper.

Of course, my stubbornness only served to further piss him off so he redoubled his own efforts. As he knelt, he planted himself firmly at the end of the bed and grabbed my torso, "You don't just lay here and wallow! Get the fuck up! Fight, Val!"

I stood my own ground, pushing my body as firmly as I could into that bed, even though he was far stronger. I just wanted to make my point: that I wasn't fucking going anywhere, and he could piss off. Plus, like fuck if I was going to let him pull me from that bed and see my tear-beaten face. I all but suffocated as I buried my face into the nearest pillow.

He kept pulling on me as he grunted and cursed up a continual storm, which was finally punctuated with a pissy and somewhat forlorn sigh. I felt the weight on the bed shift as he crawled forward a bit. He jabbed my shoulder a few times. Not hard, just with enough force to heighten my aggitation. He was looking to get some sort of reaction out of me, and he wasn't planning on giving up anytime soon. Fuck him.

"You're all pissed off, right? Bitchy at the whole world, because it's cheated you out of everything for so fucking long. It's stolen from you, used you, and fucking laughed at you...And you're fucking scared that, somehow, you aren't strong enough and its gonna do it again." He wasn't loud but his words carried weight and he was hovering just above my ear.

He chuckled a bit, "Well, fuck, you got a right to be pissed, but get the fuck over it… I can say it, because I've lived it too, and if you don't agree and it makes you feel all violent right here," he rested his hand on my back where if I had a fucking heart it would be, "Then get the fuck up and yell at me for it. Fight me, bitch."

My nostrils flared but because my face was buried in that pillow he never saw it. He did, however, probably notice the change in my breathing. For however dumb and uneducated Dante likes to play, it's all a goddamn act. He's a calculating, socially aware, observant bastard-very little gets past him, and he never does anything he doesn't want to...whether the rest of the world knows it or not.

He jabbed my arm again, "What? Did I hit a nerve?" There was a lot of bite to his words, and they were hurting a little more than I would ever care to admit. The logical part of me sternly reminded me that he was hunting for a reaction in order to rouse me from my tomb, but unfortunately for me the venom in my emotions was not having any of that. They were balling up in a pissed-off black vat of hate, and were preparing to boil over.

"Just fuck off, Dante." I muffled into the pillow. I'm sure he smirked at it, because he had at least gotten some form of speech out me.

"Already did that today. Thanks for looking out for little Dante, though." I growled a little because I realized he was winning his little fucking mind game. I was too weak to play anything effectively, and it left me feeling very pissed at myself.

A month ago Dante was just the douche-bag, pretty boy that hung out the club I bar tended at, and now (in all the fucked up plans of the cosmos) our lives were connected….

"A month ago I hated everything about you, everything you stood for...I still probably do; I know you put on a good act...But I'm not sure if I'm ready to spill my guts, cry on your shoulder, and trust you to be something stable or reliable in my life… everything depends on _this"_ I had moved the pillow away from my mouth so I didn't sound like a muzzled dog.

"You're so sweet." He shifted again, and it suddenly bothered me that I couldn't see what he was doing.

"It's one of my best fucking qualities." My voice sounded more like a snarl than anything resembling true speech. Was I really harboring that much anger?

"Fine. You don't want to talk. You don't trust anyone, and you're right you don't know me. Everything you do know about me you've heard second-hand and I haven't really commented on it much. Personally, if I knew the persona you had to deal with at Exit, I would hate me too."

He shifted again huffing that forlorn sigh, "But believe it or not, I actually like you...not just because we've been thrown into Limbo together either or because I think I can get something out of you… You're fucking strong; you're no-nonsense, and for the most part you are logical as fuck, and despite the fact that you really have no reason to look out for a prick like me, you've gone out of your way to watch my back… I can trust you more than I can trust my own brother… So if you're not ready to tell me shit right now, fine. If you're not ready to go face the fucking music today, that's fucking fine too, but I'm not leaving this bed until you do." He plopped down halfway on top of me and I resisted the urge to push him onto the floor.

To be fair, it was his bed. He had given me a place to stay when He realized I wasn't particularly safe anywhere else… If I was honest about it, he had gone out of his way to protect me too.

But it didn't change the fact that he was as annoying as shit, and at that moment he was crushing me with his weight like a fucking fatty…It didn't change that he had just become my last line of defense against my own demise...

"Fine. Let's rot together then." If my eyes were opened I would have rolled them.

"They say we both have a place in hell anyways." He chuckled bitterly.

"Probably more fun than the alternative." I trailed off as a wave of my own crazy started to wash over me. I tried like hell to fight my way free of it, but the waters were just too deep. I began to understand that the first night Dante and I officially met he had been completely accurate about my emotional makeup…

/././././././././././././././././././.

I had seen him at Exit several times, and I made it my personal mission to never wait on him or (hell) even talk to him. A lot of our girls fawned over him. A lot of girls in general fawned over him. Something about the persona he presented there (that arrogant, cocky bullshit) just made me sick to my core. Man-whores tend to have that effect on me. It painted him ugly to me and made me avoid him like the plague.

Until the night he got fed up with it.

Jessica (our other bartender) had called off that night. So it was just little, ole me behind the bar on a Tuesday night, and it was just slow enough that I couldn't really pretend to ignore him.

He had been waiting some time by the time I finally walked my happy ass over to him. I had even done a shot prior for good measure. I didn't say a word to him. I just stared him down with a slight glare until he told me what he wanted.

Because fuck him.

The only thing that made me slightly less volatile toward him was that for once he didn't have some form of club-scum, strange hanging off of him.

"Can I get a tall Blue Moon?" I was slightly disappointed that he ordered a beer. I was looking forward to giving him a watered down cocktail.

I turned to fetch him his beverage when he called out, "And 'hi' to you too!"

It pissed me off but he said it to my back so I gave less of fuck. I poured his beer, and was even fair about it.

I brought it back to him and slammed it down in front of him, "6.00" I thought about lying to him about the price because there was no way in hell he was going to tip me, but then again, I didn't give a fuck.

He pulled some crumpled cash from his pocket, "You know, you're the only girl here who won't talk to me."

"Oh, that's because I'm deathly allergic to bullshit." I said it before I could stop myself. Oops.

The smirk he gave kind of caught me by surprise, "Aren't you a judgey bitch."

"Call 'em like I see 'em." I began to wipe down the bar to signal to him that I was done giving him anymore of my time.

"You don't know shit about me." He casually followed the path of meaningless tasks I was using as a tool to end the conversation.

"Yea. Let's keep it that way." I refused to look at him. I'd seen him pull this stunt before. A girl who initially wasn't interested in him would become wooed by his wiles, wit, and persistent nature. Unfortunately for him, I was bitchier, colder, and far less interested in him than any of the women who had come before me. And, oh yea, I had a fucking brain.

"Wow." He chuckled stupidly again, "You seem a little cunty. Did we not take our meds today? Should I buy you a shot as an apology from the world?"

"Look," I finally met his eyes. They were the perfect mixture of a gray/blue slate, and gave nothing away they didn't intent to. I could almost admire him for that little trick, but he was a prick so it was a moot point.

"I've seen your kind (and more specifically your routine) a million fucking times over. You play the cocky asshole with a shit ton of baggage who secretly has a heart of gold," I continued as threw the rag back into the murky sanitizer water, "Please, don't make me ill."

He froze for a moment, mid sip on his beer, something flashed across his face. Aw, had my honest and bitchy summary of his bullshit hurt his feelings? Good, I hoped it hurt. He slammed his beer down and began to laugh like a fucking maniac. It just kept going too. He wouldn't stop and it began to grate on me… like nails on a chalkboard. He was laughing at me. He (a lowly piece of shit) was laughing at me.

"What?!" I barked, "What's your fucking issue? I mean besides the fact that you're so douchey you wear a Union Jack patch on your shoulder when you're clearly not British." Why had I even said that? Oh yea, It had become a pissing a match. I don't know why we had let it escalate to that point but we were both clearly too stubborn to walk away. Ah, petty immaturity.

He paused for the slightest sliver of a second then redoubled his terrible laughter. Fuck him.

"I don't have any fucking issue except I tried to talk to this cute bartender I've had my eye on, but it turns out she's a complete cunt." His laughter was punctured with that statement and his face went stone. I tried my best not to look offended by a prick like him, but my urge to punch him in his fucking face was so strong I wasn't sure if I was successful.

He snatched his beer off the bar top, "It's ok though, because I've been watching her and it turns out she's probably only a giant cunt because she's been fucked over a lot, and she's just a scared little bitch who doesn't want to feel another ounce of pain, so she's all fucking pissed off at the world, and puts up a tough front while secretly cowering behind her bitchy persona. Sound about right?"

"Fuck off!" I yelled slamming my fists down on the bar.

He threw a twenty down on the bar and grinned the most shit eating grin I have seen to-date, "Have a nice night."

I don't really think you can win a pissing match, because even when you win all you really get to claim is the title of most immature asshole in the arena… But somehow it felt like Dante had actually won and then some.

As he turned and walked away I yelled, "I don't need your fucking charity!"

With his back still turned to me he just held up his middle finger.

/././././././././././././.

Yea, fuck you, Dante.

Because somehow that night (that seemed so very far away) he had me pinned down and figured me out despite my walls and defenses, despite the fact that my act fools every other mother fucker out there, despite the fact that I had never even had a fucking conversation with him...and the worst part was he was dead-on about most of it… OK, all of it. He had walked up and stole my secrets and left my privacy completely shattered.

As I laid there next to him, my tired body groaned at me to sleep, but I knew Dante was still awake. He was silent and still; it was a rare state to see him in.

Some piece of logic in my brain pointed out that he was probably too worried about me to sleep; it made me feel a little guilty about my own tiredness. If Dante wasn't going to leave, fine, and if he couldn't sleep I could appreciate that enough not to leave him to his own insomnia.

"Turn the light off." My voice broke through the strange silence in his trailer. He almost seemed surprised by it. My tone was less somber than earlier, even though my insides felt many shades darker.

I thought he was going to question me, but he didn't. I felt his weight leave the bed so I added, "Grab the Jack."

I had heard the light switch click. He was still shuffling about. I expected him to complain about the order in which I had given him the instructions but again, nothing. All that answered me was the clinking of glass. Good man.

I finally felt safe enough to uncover my face… even though I knew once Dante's eyes adjusted to the dark, the small amount of light from the pier and the Ferris-wheel outside would betray me. Somehow in the darkness, that was ok though. I made my brave rise from the tomb.

"I'm not getting out of this bed." I declared. I expected him to make a dirty joke out of that statement, but he didn't. He just took his place beside me on the bed and handed me the Jack. I took a pull and let it warm me; I reveled in the way it burned at all the emotions I had suddenly lost the ability to compartmentalize.

"I don't want to talk about anything, but if you want to help me run from the pain (or whatever the fuck you want to label it) for tonight, I could be ok with that." I passed him the bottle.

I watched his silhouette take it and drink, "It's familiar territory. All you had to do was ask."


	2. Jack at First sight

Notes n stchtuff:

I feel like I should explain that 'strange' is a slang term for slutty women one would pick up in a bar... ok, moving on then ;)

/././././././.

For the rest of that first night, Dante was an obnoxious prick, and every night after that his obnoxious behavior somehow managed to intensify. The asshole would only come to me for his drinks, and despite my best efforts to either pass him off to another bartender or try to wait him out, he remained steadfast in his mission to piss me the fuck off.

I found myself even more irritated when I heard him ask Jess what my name was. Hearing that douchey asshole say my name made me feel like I needed a shower, and a new identity.

There was only one slightly redeeming moment there.

When Jess revealed my name: Valasta.

He let out a cackle, "Fitting." I won't lie; I was a little impressed that he knew the reference there, and that he knew anything about the maiden's war.

Of course, he instantly ruined it by declaring, "Val, pours the best beer and Jack on the rocks my tongue has ever had the pleasure of tasting. I'll wait on her. She'll get to me when she gets to me."

I found his sarcasm nauseating.

Nobody gets to just give me a nickname (a goddamn pet name) if I fucking hate their existence, especially if they were using it in a sentence like that. I remember throwing a beer mug at the floor and taking my sweet-ass time to clean it up.

There were many times, though, where there was just absolutely no room for my bitchy stalling tactics, because at the end of the night I had to make money. I couldn't allow even my hatred for Dante to interfere with that. On those nights (when things were fast paced and so busy I could barely breathe let alone think) I would breeze through all the customers, including Dante.

It pissed him off to no end, because I barely noticed him. On a conscious level, I was there, but I was too busy trying to keep my bar together to really care about much else. I let that priority own my focus, and everything else was neatly compartmentalized.

After a few nights like that, Dante seemed to come up with a new tactic to bring my routine to a screeching halt. When we were busy he stopped approaching me alone and instead would find the strangest of strange to accompany him to the bar top.

And they were both as obnoxious as they could be. I wanted to vomit when I watched him fawning over his flavor of the night; it was always so forced and fake. How could the dumb bitch not see it? And whoever 'she' was ate it up like fucking crack. Disgusting.

It was all gasoline on my fiery hatred and Dante seemed to enjoy the flames and the show.

And of course, Jess was absolutely no help at all. She would babble on and on about how hot Dante was, and how good he was in bed, and how he clearly wanted to demonstrate his skills to me.

She punctuated her commentary on Dante with: "Why don't you guys just fuck and get it over with?"

I stared at her, mouth agape and full of pure hate, as she casually went about washing glassware as if she hadn't just suggested that I let my mortal enemy fornicate with me.

Most women don't understand me, though so I guess I couldn't fault her there. It's not like I had ever gone out my way to ever really let her know anything about me...

Then from somewhere behind me I heard, "Yea, Val, why don't we just fuck and get it over with?" Cocky fucking Dante stood there with an empty glass and cocked brow; I wanted to throw every glass that Jess had just washed at him, then take all the shards and put them in his next drink.

"Not even on your best day and my worst." I snarled and retreated from behind the bar with a growl while he laughed that shitty, mocking cackle.

"Fuck you, Dante!" I barked.

Then there were the many nights where I would sit around and wonder why I just hadn't banned him. I practically owned and ran the club. I had the power and authority to rid myself of the prick. I tried to tell myself that I let him hang around because he was a regular and he was good for business… But sometimes I wondered just how true that was. Then I would curse the empty walls of my room.

God damn Dante.

/././././././.

Two hours in and we were already a quarter of the way through our second bottle, and I was drowning. I fought like hell to get to the surface, to breath, but wave after wave of emotional garbage just kept crushing me. You know you're fucked when even Jack betrays you.

I had been living with Dante for a month and it was still strange to see his hands absent of those stupid, leather, fingerless gloves. I used to call him Bender because I thought it was some dumb fashion statement. I quickly discovered though that they were merely a tool for him to seamlessly swap between weapons. I stopped calling him Bender after that. I stopped calling him a lot of things after that.

It was still odd to see his hands naked. They pushed some of the hair out of my face and wiped away a tear that I was stubbornly denying the existence of.

"We can run for real if you really want." I would have never defined anything about Dante as gentle up until that moment. I didn't ever fathom that his face could even have that expression.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but we both know shit just likes to follow us." My voice was raspy and it cracked too much for my liking. I had been dead silent for twenty minutes prior to that though. Our drunken adventure had started off with more jovial and playful banter, once we had broken my first layer of sad. It lasted a good long while too. I even got to see his shitty grin and hear his awful shitty laugh. It had been a few days…

Then it was like somewhere inside me a dam just broke and it drove me into silence. I felt guilty as I watched the smirk fade from Dante's lips. The realization that I was losing my own internal battle flashed across his stone eyes.

"I hate that you're right." Dante's bitter chuckle danced in the darkness.

"Dante, I don't want to go back there…" My voice cracked and I almost choked on it, "I'm scared."

"I know," He pulled me into him. Normally, I would have adamantly protested but I was too fucking tired, depressed, and drunk, "I promise you're not going back there. You have my word."

I broke my one of my commandments that night as I began to sob in terror, and I buried my face in Dante's chest too ashamed for him to look at me.

I was essentially crying on his shoulder. Damn my weakness to hell.

The man knew most of my darkest secrets and there I was worried about him seeing me cry. God, I'm fucked up.


	3. Jack on the Rocks

Dante and I had carried on our petty bickering for several months. I began to fight fire with fire. It devolved into the realm of complete immaturity very quickly. For every club scum, strange that draped themselves all over him, I would make an extra effort to actively flirt with the men who would fawn over me at the bar, especially in Dante's presence.

He would often throw his empty glass down on the bar and bark, "You'll give that jackass the time of day but not me?!"

More often than not, it would lead to a fight until Dante grew tired of getting thrown out. And then, even on the occasions where he would get thrown out, he would wait for me to get off and walk me to my car...Actually, he began doing that every night… It was fucking weird.

The walk was either dead-silent or full of cussing and bickering. There was no middle ground.

There was no middle ground in any of it. He would piss me off. I would piss him off. Empty glasses and newly filled drinks were slammed down and shoved across that bar more times than anyone could count. We called each other every name under the sun. It truly was a pissing match for the ages.

"I'm serious," Jess turned to me one night as she was counting out the register drawer, "Just fuck and get it over with already. He's got it bad for you, and in your own fucked up way I think you've got it bad for him too."

"You know, Val, love and hate are a fine line." Dante tapped his empty glass on the end of the bar. He wanted another Jack on the rocks. That earned him points but I'd never tell him that. I got him a fresh drink with a pissy huff.

"Not in my world." I set the drink before him and gave him a hard glare.

"Yea? And just what goes on in your world?" He wasn't letting go of his empty glass until I answered him. It was a trick he often attempted. I usually either snatched the damn glass from him, gave him a bullshit line that somehow satisfied him to let go, or just stopped giving a fuck.

It was that night that I'd thought I'd humor him and be just honest enough to say nothing and everything at once (you know, cryptic girl bullshit), "The shit nightmares are made. Things that separate the men from the boys. Sound like a good time to you?"

Neither of us had broken our stubborn gaze. He cocked a brow and that shitty smirk, "Yea, actually it does. Pick you up tomorrow at 9."

With that he released his glass and made his way through the crowd.

"Good. Go away." I whispered and scooped up the empty glass.

/././././././

I don't know if it was sudden or gradual but once I was aware of the daylight assaulting me through my eyelids, I immediately groaned.

"Make the dark come back." I whined into my pillow, which I quickly discovered was Dante.

"You're so fucking emo." He chuckled still half asleep. I hovered over his face as I waited for his eyelids to pry themselves open. When they finally did Dante seemed surprised by my closeness.

"What?" His tone was a little defensive but there was a hint of concern there. He immediately moved to shield his eyes from the glaring sunlight beyond the trailer.

"Did you know?" It was something I had never really asked since that first night we had been drawn into Limbo together, at least not seriously.

"All the time we spent arguing and picking at each other at Exit, did you know what I was? Is that why…" My brain was still too fuzzy to effectively cooperate with my mouth.

Dante's snicker was still drowsy and maybe a little drunk, "Is that why I talked to you relentlessly; not in a million years. That wasn't something I could exactly spot. Can't say it didn't work out in my favor though."

We had just been drawn to one another… I let that thought roll around in my head for a moment until I felt his hand on my face.

"Hey pay attention," He laughed a little, "Sometimes I worry you spend too much damn time thinking about shit."

He slowly rolled out of bed. When I noted his shirt was MIA, I panicked immediately and found myself looking under the blankets to check my state of undress.

Dante cackled again, "Don't worry I only took my shirt off because some girl cried all over it then passed out. What a drunk bitch."

"Fuck you." I growled with a half smirk, "We drink too much."

He clicked the TV on, "Nah. We didn't drink enough, you're still dressed and the night ended with you in tears."

Bob Barbas was on the news bitching about something. His voice cut through my mind like a hot knife, "Shut that prick up, will you?"

"My thoughts exactly." He cut the TV off and opted for some music instead, an exceptional decision on his part.

"We need a plan." Apparently that morning I was playing the part of Capt. Obvious.

Dante had started on some toast and eggs. It's strange to watch a demon-hunter do mundane tasks after you've watched him decapitate a number of things.

"Already working on that." He brought me a plate of toast. It almost seemed surreal. It would have almost been nice if all my fears weren't making it nearly impossible to eat.

It didn't occur to me that I just been staring at my toast lost in my own thoughts for several minutes, until I touched it and was ice cold.

"We have to work tonight." I declared somberly. My uneasiness draped over my form.

"I know," Dante brought me some eggs then placed himself beside me with his own plate, "And we'll go, and I'll be right there with you. All those warm, pissy, bitchy, hate-ridden feelings you keep bottled up in there," he lightly flicked me in the head, "Are going to come in handy tonight when things get a little ugly."

/./././././.

I must've have been in a good mood that night because I actually decided to treat Dante like a paying, human customer, instead of playing our usual nit-picky games. I didn't greet him warmly or anything like that, but at the very least, I didn't make him wait an obscene amount of time like usual.

"Jack on the rocks and same for the lady." Dante's shitty smirk seemed to be a contagion infecting the rest of form. If he stood there any cockier he would've turned into a giant prick… Oh wait, nevermind.

"What lady?" I set his drink before him. I had already anticipated his order, "What the fuck are you talking about, Dante?"

"Ouch." He took a sip of his drink while still maintaining that shitty smile, "I'm a little hurt you'd forget about our date."

My mouth hung agape. I looked like a moron. I couldn't help it; my mind just could not wrap itself around whatever goddamn nonsense he was talking about: "I'm sorry; what?"

"Yea." He casually pointed to the large black wrought iron clock hanging in the middle of the club, "Last night you offered me a good time and I told you I'd pick you up at nine. Now I don't know where you live so I figure here's as a good a place as any."

"Dante, you are out of your fucking mind crazy." I had finally managed to close my mouth and pull my shit together.

"Tell me something I don't know and pour yourself a drink." He stood there resolute and that stupid smirk would not quit. It complimented the mischief in his eyes. He was a royal fucking pain if I ever met one.

"Dante, I'm working. I don't have time for this." I went to move onto the next customer when Jess cut me off.

She just grinned at me. I almost bitch slapped her but instead I huffed all pissy and moved onto the next patron. The man promptly informed me that Jess had already taken care of him. I heard the same story from every person there after.

I was about to bitch Jess out for it, but she seemed to be eying the DJ distracted. I couldn't figure out why until he stopped the music and started talking: "Ladies and Gentleman, give our lovely ladies behind the bar a round of applause. They are your faithful maidens of mead and debauchery."

The place erupted in whoops, cheers, and clapping and as it died away the DJ chimed in once more, "But tonight we're giving one bartender the night off. She works hard, puts up with all your bullshit, and has the face of an angel. Valasta, you work too hard; the man upstairs has decided tonight you get to enjoy yourself. So get your ass out from behind the bar and come party with your fans, and one in particular."

I wanted to kill everyone and everything.

"Everyone else welcome your guest bartenders for the night…" The DJ went on but in my anger I tuned him out and immediately grabbed Jess.

"Valasta, ow. What the fuck?" Her blond locks fell in her face from the force I exerted grabbing her. There was no way I was letting her run away this time.

"What the fuck did you do?" I snarled.

Jess tried to pull free but I wasn't letting her budge, "Don't blame me. Dante did it. He went to Rick...Paid for your shift and offered Rick extra cash to give you the night off."

I dropped Jess's arm like it was hot coals (which I'm sure she was relieved about) and turned my attention to Dante as I marched toward him.

"What was that you were saying about working?" Fuck him and his grin!

"You bought me?! You fucking bought me?!" I balled my fists in anger-white, hot anger, "You went to my boss and bought me?!"

"Yea, I did." His grin faded and his face went stone, "Now get your ass out from behind the bar before I come and get you."

I was fuming pissed. Just one hit. That's all I wanted, right in his stupid mouth so I never had to see that shitty grin again, but there was a strange air he carried about him that made me think twice about challenging him. As pissed as I was walking out from behind that bar, I knew it was really my only choice. He had won, again.

"Fine, but I'm going to drink you into poverty." I grabbed the drink Jess had made for me off the bar top as I pushed passed him.

"That's what I like to hear."


	4. Jack and Theives

"Val, bring me my clothes." Dante's voice shook the trailer as he called to me from the shower. This was the lull before the impending storm... I tried to pretend like my insides weren't shaking...

"Fine," I sighed, "Don't you ever think about what happens after you get naked?" I scooped up the clothes he had left at the edge of the bed (pushing all my crazy thoughts aside) and opened the bathroom door... where Dante stood in all his glory, shower curtain complete open while he grinned at me like an insane motherfucker.

"Yea. All the time."

I threw his clothes on the floor and slammed the door, "I should've fucking known better."

"What?! Val, c'mon don't be pissed. I'm only fucking around." I could hear him fumbling around in the bathroom before he burst through the door, this time wrapped in a towel, not that it really mattered at that point.

"You're always fucking around, Dante." I rolled my eyes and tried not to look at him, because I was afraid of what would happen if I did and I was equally terrified that he knew that too. I mean, for fuck's sake, Dante was man pretty... and if I looked at those abs, I was terrified they'd be my doom.

I distracted myself by folding clothes and keeping my back firmly toward him.

"C'mon don't be like that." I heard him take a few more steps toward me so I stood my ground resolute. He plopped down on the bed behind me, "You know I hate it when you're pissed at me."

"Dante, that's like all the time." I shook my head and tried not to laugh as I kept folding.

"You know what I mean…" I could hear the smile in his voice.

Let's be real here. Yea, I was pissed he gave me a show when I didn't ask for it, but it was more that he was always joking around and we would soon be marching toward the front lines...

"Don't let it bother you." I spat and within my next breath that bastard had come up behind me, ripped the shirt I had been folding from my hands, tossed it aside, and flipped me around to face him. All of it done while his other hand kept his towel firmly in place. I could at least appreciate that even if everything else he had done was obnoxiously annoying.

"You know, for a smart girl you can be fucking dense." He was kneeling so he towered over me and try as I might I couldn't get free of his grasp, "Get it through your fucking skull, I'm not giving up, and eventually it will click in your head."

"Whatever. You messed up all the clothes." I rolled my eyes again and did my best to avoid his gaze.

"Sorry. Let me get that." And he did… after ditching his towel. It was only noon and I already needed a drink. Yea, that about summed up my life.

/./././././././././.

Dante hadn't just paid Rick for my shift, he had paid for a booth and bottle (I mean, Jack) service, and he picked the only fucking booth the club had that forced me to sit next to him. I couldn't even banish him to his side of the fucking table.

I sat there all pissy with my my arms crossed and I refused to look at him, "I hope you know this drives the nail into the coffin on my feelings for you."

"So you admit that you feel something toward me." He was too close to my ear and I could feel his lips ever so slightly brush my bottom earlobe.

I pushed him back before I could even stop myself as I snarled, "What are you trying to prove? I'm not just a belt notch or some fucking conquest!"

He slammed the bottle of Jack down on the table, "Well maybe if you would quit with your venom spewing ice queen routine you might actually find out!"

I had seen him pissed off and mad a thousand times over. I had seen Dante violent and volatile for one reason or another, but that moment was the first time I ever saw the anger flood his eyes, and wholly own his entire being. Then it dawned on me… It wasn't hate; it was hurt.

"I'm sorry," I couldn't believe those words had just come out my mouth and that they were meant for Dante. I made myself finish off my Jack before I dared continue, "Look, I'm a whole lot of fucked up and I lack a lot of social skills. I don't like people, and I don't like closeness with people. Maybe you're just chasing after the wrong prize." I finally met his eyes.

They had changed their tone. They were somewhat softer and their playful stare had returned, "Nah. I think I found exactly what I'm looking for."

I rolled my eyes, "Then don't get pissy when a bitch acts like a bitch, ok?"

"Fine. That's fair," He filled my empty drink with smirk, "Only if you don't get pissy when an asshole acts like an asshole because he's fucking tired of your shitty attitude."

"Fine." I snatched my drink and returned to my arms-crossed, pissed-off pose, "Why do you even come here?"

"You aren't too bright, are you?" Dante sprawled himself out lazily in the booth and drank straight from the bottle, "I thought that would be obvious by now."

"Nothing is ever what it seems," I challenged his stare with my own, "Believe nothing you hear and only half of what you see. Living any other way is just ignorance."

That statement made Dante perk up and shift toward me, "Alright, I'll buy that, but you know it would be a lot easier for me to understand you if you would actually talk to me."

"Talking is overrated." I rolled my eyes once again and grabbed the bottle from him.

And the next thing I knew he had me pinned in the corner of the booth, "Val, if you couldn't get rid of me before, what makes you think I'm going to give up now?"

"Seriously, what the fuck do you want?!" I shouted back over the thundering music, "I'm not going to fu-"

My breath hitched as that terrible, ice-cold hand of death and hell itself began to slither its way through the club, covered in carnage and destruction-hopelessness and desolation.

"Oh no," I sounded like a terrified child,"No! No! No!"

"What's wrong? Val?" I had completely forgotten about Dante's existence… and he seemed so worried. Why was he worried?

He was scrambling to get off me, "I'm not going to hurt you, I swear. I would never-"

"Not you!" I exclaimed, "They're coming. One of them found me…"

"Who? Who the fuck are 'they'" Dante's concern was rapidly growing.

"I can't explain it." My heart was racing. I was on the brink of total panic, "I have to get the fuck out of here. I have to leave now." I was saying it more to myself than him… Tears were biting and stinging at my eyes. Was my vision blurry from alcohol or because I was crying like a bitch?

"No one's going to hurt you. Let me help you." Dante tried to steady my fearful form.

He finally caught my eye as I declared, "You don't understand, once they're here you won't see them...or me…"

The music was growing louder like a trumpeting battle cry. I could watch the terrible frenzy over-take the subconscious of every human around me. Everyone fell prey to their darkness, all morality tossed aside. Madness would consume them all soon.

"What are you talking about, Val?" Dante would fall victim too, "Why wouldn't I see them?"

The world around me began to pulse and ripple. The very fabric of reality was being torn in half before my eyes and it was nauseating. I fought like hell to keep the Jack down. I tried to get up and run but I stumbled. I didn't want all these people to get caught in the cross-fire.

"I was so careful!" I screeched as my own panic began to deteriorate the remainder of my sound mind, "They shouldn't be here!"

"Who?!" Dante grabbed me again with a forceful shake. He would be caught in the cross-fire too. Another pile of straw on my funeral pyre.

"You have to get away from me, Dante. They'll kill you to get to me." I tried to get free of him but he was just too fucking strong. That should have raised more questions than it did at the time, but the reality around me was swirling so fast I could barely keep my head together.

The icy hand of fate became a white hot flame of death. The crescendo: a blinding flash of fire, brimstone, and the end of the tiny sliver of peace I had managed to scrape together.


	5. Jack and Bloodshed

NOTES/MY RANT: Finally things pick up :)

/././././././././././././.

"Come on," Dante threw his coat on in a haste, "We're going out."

I had been sleeping in an attempt to pretend I would wake up to something less depressing than the insanity that had come to be known as my life, and Dante decided it would be an excellent idea to ruin that...

"Leave me alone," My whining was pathetic so I made myself a cocoon out of blankets.

"Not a chance," He ripped the covers from me and tossed them across the room. I was unamused and continued to lay there.

So the pillows became Dante's next victims. He ripped them violently from the bed.

"No," I groaned as I sat up and slammed my fists into the bed; it was my feeble attempt to stage my last stand.

"Yes." He growled; Dante tore the sheets from the bed and tossed me over his shoulder with one fluid motion. It was completely unfair.

He dumped me in heap on the bathroom floor and slammed the door.

"See the dress hanging on the door?. Wear it." Dante's voice was firm. There was no 'please'. It was an order.

I flailed my arms and legs as I clawed free from the twisted sheets. I was terrified of what article of clothing would be staring back at me.

All my fears were realized when I saw the mesh wonder. It seemed like it would be right up the super heroine Striperella's alley. The dress was a hot mess of mesh, except of course the places that actually mattered (so technically there's no indecent exposure), "Oh hell the fuck no."

"Wear it. I'm taking you out-on a real date." I heard the jingle of his keys, "Unless of course you really want my help getting dressed. You have five minutes, or I'm coming in."

"Why are you doing this?" I whined, "Why?"

"Just give me this, Val," I heard him lean against the door, "Let me give a good time while we still know I can."

_'Thanks, Dante, way to play the guilt trip card...it was super effective' _Was the thought that rolled around in my head while I huffed a labored sigh.

I stood slowly and took a few small steps toward that dress. I briefly wondered if it was the remnants of some whore he fucked somewhere along the way...until I saw the tags and felt terrible for my previous thought (it only served to multiply the effect of the guilt trip card).

Dante was willing to fight at my side come hell or high-water, and in our scenario the former was far more likely than the latter. He had given up a lot of his former life and old ways for me, and as much as I wanted to push aside all the thoughts and feelings I associated with him in order to protect myself, I found myself unable to deny it any longer: Dante would die for me.

Dante might die for me.

He must have grown impatient because I heard him rustle and grunt, "Val, if you don't know by now I don't know how the fuck else to make it clear, except to say I l-"

My heart was racing and my mouth took over as a panicked reaction, "Don't say it, Dante. Please don't. If you do…"

If he did say it, it meant he was saying it because he believed this was his last chance, and I would be damned if I let that happen.

Silence hung in the air for a long time. It was a weighted anvil that murdered all forms of communication and I dressed in the vast, soundless vacuum. However, I finally got my vengeance upon it when I opened the door and declared, "Thank you, Dante, for the dress...for everything."

I thought he would have some snarky, jack-ass thing to say but instead I found myself encased within his vice like embrace, no space between us. I returned the hug, and it felt strangely safe.

"You look too pretty be hanging around a bum like me."

Oh Dante.

"Is that why you decide to only halfway dress me?" I pushed him playfully.

"Nah. That's just cause you're nice to look at," When his fingers interlocked with mine it felt like a spark-an ignition, so much raw emotion and meaning reverberated behind that action. It was nearly as scary as all of the darkness we were currently facing.

And usually, I would just push him aside, but at that moment… I just couldn't…

"Come on, Val, I don't bite." His trademark grin and cocked brow painted his playfulness across his face, and I decided that I didn't hate it so much anymore. In fact, my life would feel pretty empty without it.

/././././././././././././././././.

Somewhere during the inferno of the explosion my self-preservation had taken over for me, encasing both Dante and I in the thick plume of my vast black wings. There was a strange moment where my eyes locked with his as we tumbled our way through the shock-wave. Dante's eyes were as wide with surprise as mine were with fear; He was about to find out more about me than I ever wanted anyone to know.

But something was wrong...He shouldn't have been able to follow me to the fucked up place I was being forcibly sucked into. 'They' would send me there specifically to keep me from interfering… to keep me from saving anyone.

We both hit the ground with a hard thump. I let out a small whimper as I bounced off his body. The flames had licked their way up the small of my back and stolen the pound of flesh I owed them. I'd heal quick enough, but that didn't make it hurt any less. The bastards had pulled out all the big guns this time.

Lucky me.

I pulled myself off Dante, "Why the fuck are you here?! You shouldn't have been able to come here…"

"Said the bitch with the giant fucking black wings." He cocked a brow and brushed himself off.

"I saved your ass." I turned my back to him immediately scanning the carnage and bullshit around me. I had to find a way out, and fast. I didn't have time for any distractions.

"Yea, at the cost of your own," I could feel the moment where Dante's hand hovered just above my charred flesh. He didn't even have to touch it to make it ache and protest. I whipped around and grabbed his hand with a growl.

"Don't touch it."

He chuckled and ripped his hand away, "You're too kind. Too bad it was somewhat of wasted gesture. I'm not exactly human, either."

He manifested a preternatural sword, and I instinctively drew my own weapon: a large Germanic battle ax. The ancient runes carved all along the steel blade glowed and emanated with my own will-power casting an array of red and white hues.

Dante grinned again, "Even you know I'm not here to kill you, and we both need to get the fuck out of here as soon as possible, so let's hold off the fun until later."

He was right. I hated it when he was right. Besides, if he had really wanted to kill me, he could've done it in the moments before.

"Fine," I turned from him weapon-ready, "But our friends have arrived early to the party." My eyes moved to a doorway covered in shadows; I knew four DeathKnights awaited me there in the darkness. I could hear their shrill cackle echo eerily within the confines of Limbo.

I was feeling impatient so I decided to bring my brand of fun to them. I let out a pissed off shriek and glided the distance between us within seconds. Carnage was my introduction, and my ax sliced through the bastards with such ease I couldn't help but smile.

"Yea, better not keep them waiting!" Dante's sword beheaded the last one, "Come on, I think I know a way out."

Dante quickly traded his sword for two pistols, "I've got you covered, if you're not afraid to get wet."

"I was born in bloodshed." I growled, my insides longed for the days of the hunt. I had my father to thank for that one...

"Alright, that's what I like to hear." He sounded almost giddy, "Let's get to some stairs then the rest is up to you."

I followed his thought pattern on that.

I didn't answer him, just began my march forward. In that form, I always feel like large cat stalking prey. Sometimes it's almost frightening to realize that it's the closest I often come to happiness. Once that nature takes hold, there is no turning back, no fear, nothing-not even hate. In that form, I am abandoned to the craving I was born with for battle, and picking off those who should fall by its blade.

Maybe I was the one who was giddy. With every swing of my ax, and every spurt of demonic blood, my smile grew wider, and I felt more alive. Every kill built my battle aura, and every worthless creature I struck fear into fell victim to paralysis and ultimately my ax.

Dante could have yammered on the whole time, and I would have never noticed, because as fucked up as it was, that was my happy place. I teetered just between life and death swinging a giant ax at the world I despised, at a world that had cheated me.

But the battlefield, the battlefield was mine.

The stairway was narrow; it tugged at my wings which in turn tugged at the still-healing flesh of my back. Dante grabbed my wrist, "Wait, let me go first. Those wings will make you an easy target if you walk out onto the roof first, and I'm guessing you can't put them away until your back heals."

He was right. I moved aside for him. Dante's cocky attitude didn't seem quite so annoying as I watched him take the lead; he had the confidence of a general and the focus of a sniper. Nothing short of victory belonged to him, and he didn't care who the fuck stood between him and what was his. His warrior-like strut pulled at other innate tendencies given to my kind.

My battle aura did what came natural before I could stop it; It had chosen my victor, and the light that danced about him intensified with a hum. The hues changed from a soft blue to an angry red as he manifested his own ax, "Let's make an exit."

He kicked the door with everything he had. It flew forward with the force of a Mac truck, and plowed through everything that dared be in its path… of course, I suppose they fared a far better fate than those who weren't lucky enough to die by that door.

Dante followed up the the would-be projectile by tearing apart everything that was unfortunate enough to be within his damage radius. He swung the large ax as if weighed no more than a dagger and every swing was a death-blow.

The battle cry imbued to my kind erupted from my mouth along with a playful cackle. I was fine with being the third wave after being satisfied with the sights of the first two. As I hacked through my first harpie of the night, I could feel Dante's energy fortify my own, just as my will-power empowered him: a battle bond.

Our attacks and movements synchronized-our own fortified sphere of destruction.

Once I felt we had enough space (and fun) I shouted, "Now! Cover me!"

I spread my wings high and ominous and grabbed him I dove over the side of the roof and took flight. It had been so long since I had felt that sensation, I couldn't stop the gleeful shriek I let out.

The harpies were relentless; they took chase but Dante picked them out of the air one-by-one with little effort, and the door way out of hell wasn't too far off.

The hammer of Dante's guns was the crescendo to our orchestrated destruction.


	6. The Naked Jack

NOTES: My in between scenes are a little corny (I know). But, again fan fiction, duh! lol These scenes make more sense as things unfold though. Promise, lovlies.

/./././././././././.

The sun was setting over the pier; if it wasn't so foreboding, I might have found it beautiful. For some strange reason, I found the sound of Dante's combat boots comforting. My chosen victor never hesitated in anything and to have him beside me was a rare glimmer of hope, though it bothered me to internally admit so.

The filth of the city hung heavy in the air, creating a surreal smog; it hovered delicately over the ocean below us. Again it could have been almost enchanting if…

Dante had taken me to a quiet dinner, where he was somewhat sweet, you know in his dick sort of way. I didn't know where exactly we were headed to next, but we definitely had some time to kill before the witching-hour.

"Look," Dante paused mid-step and wrapped an arm around my waist, "I know you'll hate where I'm taking you next….until I pump you full of Jack, that is-"

"I'm not having sex with you-" He put a finger over my lips to hush me.

Dante's devil smirk spread over his lips:, "For fuck's sake, let me finish, Val." His play on words only widened his grin, "I have one more thing I want to give you."

A tiny black thread woven like chain-mail emerged from his pocket. In the center of that piece of jewelry was a proud, blood-red stone. It was then I realized that the stone on his own amulet was significantly smaller.

Dante…

"When I was 17," all his playfulness was chased away by the dark clouds in his eyes, "I ripped open apart my chest just to prove to myself that I had a heart, that I wasn't just some listless fucking piece of shit like every other demon hybrid I had come across...and even when the gore, and the pain was over, and I fucking stared right at it, I still didn't believe it… I still didn't think it was enough."

The hand Dante cradled the in necklace found my free hand. Dante had never sounded so small, "I spent so many goddamn years counting the days until I either died or became like them… but you, Val…"

"Shut up." I said with a laugh and pushed him playfully,

"Fuck you, Val!" He chuckled darkly as he pulled me back into him. Dante's firm grasp held me there as he placed the choker on my neck. The metal felt cool and inviting against my skin.

"I was only saving you from being a lame sap." I lightly punched his chest.

"Don't worry, there's still plenty of time for me to be the prick you know and love." One of his hands rested in my hair. As I listened to his heartbeat, I thought about what his teen years must have been like; I instantly shuddered...because I could clearly recall that feeling. Dante had been abandoned and tossed aside. They had tried to suppress him much like they had me...the only advantage he possessed was Mundus could never actually find Dante...Mundus still hadn't found Dante...just me...and Dante was risking it all to keep me from Mundus' slimy reach.

"I'm taking you to a club and you're going to dance with me." I could hear the sly grin in Dante's voice.

"Like hell you are!" I tried to break free from him but he pulled me forward effortlessly as I called him every insult I could utter and then some.

"I told you'd hate it." He laughed like maniacal jackass.

Fuck you Dante.

/./././././././././.

Somewhere during our flight Dante had convinced me to take him back to his place...and stay there with him. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. Clearly, it was open season on my ass, and it was known where to find me.

Once we were sure we hadn't been followed, I dropped us in an alley. Ok, so maybe I threw Dante, just a little bit, but it was nicer than all my other thoughts...or desires.

Dante's bitter cackle reverberated in the dark alley, "Thanks cunt."

I growled at him, "Welcome prick."

He shook himself off as he stood. He was about to make his way out of the alley when he noted my hesitation. My back was still working on mending itself and I couldn't put my wings away quite yet. Oh yea, and I had been shot in the thigh.

I stumbled into an alley wall to keep my balance as the weight of my body pushed against my wound. I didn't scream though. I had learned to keep quiet, and it was in my best interest to do so.

"Fuck." I cursed under my breath. Before I could think twice about it, Dante was shouldering the weight of the entire left side of my body.

"How bad are you hurt?" Why the fuck did he care? If it wasn't for the fact that I would have fallen to the ground, I would have thrown him off me.

"I'll be fine." I snarled through clenched teeth as I tried not to put any pressure on the wound. Fuck my life.

"Just give me a minute." I wanted to sound meaner than I did, but it was pointless. I needed him to support my weight… I needed his help.

"So you mind telling me just what the fuck that was all about?" Dante's face was lightly coated the in shadows, but I imagined he had that stupid fucking smirk on it.

"Nah uh," I retorted, "You first." I began the precise and ghetto procedure of digging the bullet out of my thigh. It speeds up the healing process when there isn't a hot chunk of metal in the way. I heard the familiar gurgle as I pressed my index and middle finger into the gaping hole spurting the crimson mess from my thigh. Yes, it was very cute.

"Fine, but only because you seem a little preoccupied," he shifted in order to give me more light, "I'm just your friendly neighborhood demon slayer: half demon, half angel."

A Nephilim? I froze mid-dig then spat, "Yea, and which half is that?"

"Clearly, you've never been in bed with me." He hoisted an arm under the crook of my knee… He probably realized I was getting dizzy from bending over….and the blood loss, and digging through the gore of my leg.

"Well, I'm sure you're a hot commodity." I winced when I found the bullet...it was buried in there good. I was a little pissy that it had come so close to being a clean shot...and then gave up. Of course, that falls on my own healing factor so I only had myself to blame.

"For some fucked up reason, the ladies seem to love me." Dante only half chuckled; his focus seemed to be more on my digging adventure than the actual conversation.

"No, not women," I clenched my jaw tight as I pushed my fingers in deep enough to get a good grip on the bullet, "I meant every big bad from here to hell wants your head on a platter." My voice was shaken, airy. The pain was bearable but pain is still pain.

"Something like that." He watched me with a strange fascination, maybe remembering all the times he'd had to dig out his own bullets.

With my fingers buried in my own squishy substance, I took a deep breath and prepared myself to pull the bullet out.

"Of course, the Nephilim would be the asshat I couldn't shake off with my bitchy attitu-" The pitch of my voice heightened; I was about to cry out in pain, when abruptly my body was crushed against the cold bricks of the alley wall. Dante's hand was placed firmly over my mouth.

"Stay quiet and don't be stubborn." His voice had an odd air of dominion, "Drawing any attention to ourselves right now would be absolutely asinine; you know this, right?"

I nodded 'yes', my eyes wide with fear. What the fuck was going on? What was he about to do? I tried to wiggle my way free, but he just pushed his body against mine harder… All while my fucking leg was still hoisted in the goddamn air...When that entire exchange was all over I planned to punch him in his stupid fucking face; I was going to punch him and then I was going to punch him again harder, and I was going to tell him to fuck off and leave me the hell alone and-

"Val," Dante shifted his weight getting my attention again, "Pay attention. Jesus Christ, I'm just trying to help…"

My eyes finally remembered that I should look at my leg. The bullet glared at me as it was jutting halfway out of the hole I created...and of course it was sideways. It was lodged in there all kinds of jacked the fuck up, no doubt my own fucking fault.

"I'm going to uncover your mouth," Dante began as his hand slowly left my face, "You are going to close your eyes and focus all your energy on keeping your fucking mouth shut."

The logical part of me commanded me to suck up my pride and just let the bastard help me, and I was unable to argue.

So I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

Dante's fingers caressed the outside of the wound gently. My best guess said that he was trying to figure out the logistics of the bullet, or maybe it was to soothe me before what he was about to do next.

His fingers plunged into the gore with a mission in mind, and they spared nothing in the way. I whimpered and squirmed slightly so Dante used the weight of his body to hold me in place. His retrieval effort made a terrible noise, all the gurgling and squishing and the feel of my insides running down my leg…

And just when I thought I couldn't bare anymore, Dante proclaimed, "Done."

My body fell limp against him and he gently assisted my descent to the ground.

"Some fucking douche bag must've shot me while we were airborne." I wanted nothing more than to sleep for days at that moment.

"I'm sorry." Dante sounded so somber, "I thought I had you covered."

My inner nature spoke for me, "This is war and there are casualties." It was my strange, fucked up way of telling him not to blame himself… I wasn't exactly his number one fan or anything, but he had fought like hell. Whether, I wanted to admit it or not, we had made a good team...and fighting at his side had actually made me happy…I didn't have a mirror at the time, but I am sure my face twisted at that thought.

Dante squatted down so he was eye-level, "Aw. Is that your way of telling me you forgive me?" Faux adoration sarcastically painted his tone.

"Not with that attitude," I sleepily rolled my eyes, "Fuck, it's been awhile since I've had to fight. I thought I was in the clear." I was saying it more to myself than Dante, but of course he was going to chime in.

"It's the first time you actually didn't seem like a royal fuck cunt." He leaned against the wall beside me. How was it that no matter where that prick was he always seemed so damn comfortable?

"Were you watching the same battle? I brought down judgment." I laughed a bit, giddy in my own reminiscing, "Usually that's what horrible bitches do, right?"

It got a chuckle out him, "It was something to see, that's for sure."

My back was finally healed, and about fucking time too. Wings are heavy as fuck and awkward when you aren't using them for their intended purpose.

"Don't look." I commanded, "I don't like it when people watch me shove my wings away."

Dante burst into a robust laughter then paused, "Oh wait, you're serious. Fine."

I imagine it's similar to watching Wolverine put his claws away except mine are a lot bigger and it's somewhat messier… It leaves behind enough feathers to look like I had murdered some large bird of prey. I've never personally watched the sight… I've only listened to the popping, cracking, and twisting my body does as it reshapes… and oddly enough it doesn't really hurt….

Once the deed was done, I came to another frightening realization. putting away my wings had cost me the last of my shirt; it lay in a sad heap on my lap...torn, chard, and tired. It looked like I felt.

"Keep your eyes closed!" I hissed as he started to squint. I immediately threw my arms around myself in a protective embrace.

Dante didn't listen. Dante rarely ever listens…

But he always laughs and never shuts the fuck up...and that moment was no different.

"I always thought I'd get your clothes off, just not like this." Dante's laughter possessed him. All I could whine about in my mind was how being naked was actually not worth uncovering myself to punch the prick.

"Shut the fuck up! Give me your coat!" My snarl was snippy and angry.

"You mean the one with the douchey Union Jack patch?" He was still laughing, the asshole.

"Yes!" I whined. I didn't mean to but I did. I whined because I was tired and pissy and Dante wouldn't just give me his fucking coat!

He just kept laughing, "You're almost cute when you're pouting."

"Dante!" I was losing my mind. The cold was creeping in and there was no real way for me to express just how naked I really felt. Nudity isn't just nudity… it's like being utterly helpless and vulnerable….

"So about what just happened back there…" The way he said it implied he was insinuating something… I didn't like it…

"What? It's not my fault they showed up! One of those __things__ you often bring home probably opened her whore mouth… that is what they do, right?" My eyes were like daggers at him.

He placed his hand on his chest in mock hurt, "Ouch. Is someone a little jealous?"

"Fuck you, Dante, I'm naked and I still want to hit things…" I met his eyes with fire.

"Yea? We could do something about that?" With that statement he almost got me. I nearly let go of myself and hooked him with my right, but I paused at the last second. Disappointment instantly befell him.

"Look, I know I hang out there a lot…" He ran a hand threw his short, choppy, dark hair, "But I've been keeping a low profile… Quit being so pissy. You're in trouble, and if you don't stop being so stubborn that trouble'll do a whole hell of a lot more than just a bullet to the leg…."

I sighed reluctantly.

"I'll give you my coat if you do…" Dante's teasing nature made me crack a slight smile.

"Fine, but not here. We're in the open. You know this." Story time would most definitely have to wait.

"Right."He whipped his coat off swiftly and draped it over me. As I went to get to my feet, he offered me his hand. I glared at him.

"I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you back to my place if you don't knock that shit off." He seemed dead serious… it was a face I had only seen once before… and it was that night during his march toward the battlefield.

So I took his hand…

"And for the record," he started as he threw my arm over his shoulder, "I haven't taken one of those 'things' home in months...and I swear to whatever the fuck created this hellhole (the devil, some Jesus-thing, what-the-fuck-ever) if you complain about me helping you walk back to my place, I will walk around my trailer butt-ass fucking naked and wave my junk in your face."

Needless to say, I complied.


	7. Jack and the past

/./././././././././

Dante had been fucking with my head all night so I supposed I shouldn't've expected that he would behave any differently at the club he planned on taking me to…

For starters, it wasn't even a club it was a large bar that doubled as a concert venue. My favorite local band (Chaos Theory) was playing there. In all the fucking insanity, I had forgotten, but Dante…

They played this strange hybrid of aggrotech and metal. It was like a Rob Zombie remix except it was darker, heavier, and got you high through your ear drum. Of course, I was biased. The drummer had been one of my regulars at Exit, and the first time his band had played there was one of the best nights I could remember, to-date.

The pit was insanity. Everyone there just committed to that circle of death and left all their bullshit and frustrations in the epicenter of the destruction.

Dante and I were no different. It was something that I knew was a little childish, but I just didn't fucking care.

And Dante with his devil grin, fed me all the Jack I could swallow.

I was perfectly fine with that.

I was having myself a grand, intoxicated time until the lead singer started talking nonsense at the beginning of the second set.

Their vocalist was named Evan and he was best friends with Terry (the drummer). My only hesitation about Evan was he often entertained Dante's ridiculousness, until Terry would talk him down. Neither Terry nor Evan knew of the world in which Dante and I shared so we had to keep them at distance, but all in all they weren't terrible people…

Until that night when Evan opened up his talk-hole and started spewing nonsense.

"I want to thank everyone for coming out tonight, gettin' a little fucked up with us," Evan brushed the long locks out of his eyes, "There's two crazy motherfucks in particular though who I want to personally thank for their presence. They are the two who have made your pit experience a little more intense than usual." Evan let out a bark of a cackle.

"The first is the pretty-boy Dante, ladies you all want to sleep with him and gentlemen all wannabe him."

"Evan, shut the fuck up, his ego is big enough!" I shouted before I could stop myself.

"Think of the devil and she shall appear," Evan let out another bark of laughter, "Valasta, you are our other guest of honor tonight."

I instantly rolled my eyes from within the blackness of the crowd. I know he didn't see it but Dante did, and retaliated appropriately (at least in his own terms).

"I bought her a new dress! Make her come on stage!" Dante's howl was ear-shatteringly loud, all the power and command in his voice increased his volume.

"Sounds like a plan," Evan agreed, "You know her as the toughest bartender at the former Exit (you know before the fire), Valasta!"

Dante shoved me toward the stage, "Go on."

"Way to ruin a nice night!" I hissed at him.

I walked to the stage with the attitude of defiance and hate I so often wore. Evan placed a spare mic in my hands.

"So we've had a bet going" Evan smirked, "Have you slept with Dante yet?"

"Evan, how much do you like your face?" I glared.

"Whoa!" He chuckled, "Sorry! If it's any consolation, I'm pretty sure he's about you for the long haul so good on that one."

"Is that what they taught you in groupies 101?" I pushed him playfully.

"Nah, I've just seen him so I know." Evan eyed me somewhat seriously. I found it rather aggravating.

"Did you call me up on stage to talk about my personal life or does this have a point?" I glared him down, while glancing at Dante to gauge whether or not he had staged this whole thing.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, she is rough, tough, and a whole lot of fuck up but has the voice of an angel. Valasta, will sing a duet with me?" I caught Dante's eye as Evan posed the question. Dante was wearing the devil grin and he did little hide it. The bastard.

I hated being the center of attention, especially in that dress, but...

"I've had enough Jack so to hell with it. Why not?"

/././././././././././././././././././././.

We weren't through the door to his trailer for more than five seconds before he held his hand out in demand for his coat and spat, "So spill."

It was then that I realized that I had nothing to replace the job in which Dante's coat had been assigned, "I can't… I don't have anything else to cover me."

"Your poor planning is not my problem." He smirked as he threw both of his pistols down on his tired-looking kitchen table. They made a loud thump.

"Dante!" I screeched exasperated. It had been a long day and I just didn't have the energy for his nonsense.

"Fine." His sigh was playfully dramatic. He stripped his shirt off and tossed it toward me. I had caught it before I could even think about; all of my reflexes just took over.

"You couldn't've given me something clean?" I glared at him.

He crossed his arms, draped in his own confidence (because he was a shirtless wonder to look), "Do you want me to take it back?"

I clutched the tank tighter and muttered insults under my breath… I didn't want to have to look at him all shirtless, and perfect...because it was a nice sight...which pissed me off…and I hated that I had just internally admitted of the aforementioned statements to myself.

I could see the bathroom from where I had been standing so I escorted myself there and pushed his god-like form from my mind. Fucking asshole.

My leg had healed in our march back to Dante's so by the time we had reached his door I had all but pushed him off me. It was nice to be without a limp.

I closed the door to his bathroom and nearly screamed. I was pissed off about a lot of things. Some irrational part of me tried to blame Dante, but most of me realized just how fucking stupid that was. It wasn't his fault… none of my core issues were.

The true causes of my bitchiness all stemmed from my long standing issues, and the realization that the thought I had once had...that the idea that I was finally free from the darkness… was all a delusional lie, nothing short of naive.

"Hey." Dante's voice broke through my thoughts, "Val, you still owe me an explanation."

"Fuck off," I muttered under my breath as I ripped his coat off and tossed it to the ground.

The intro to Dante's next question was the sound of the bathroom door swinging wide open, "I'm sorry what?"

I threw my arms around myself and screamed, "Can you just fuck off already?!"

"Sorry, Little Dante seems to have his sights set on you." He shrugged like a jackass, "Yea, I know; I don't get it either."

I growled at him...too mad to even form a string of words together in my head to respond.

I whipped around with a pissy huff after that. I couldn't see Dante's stupid face anymore, but the silence that hung in the air made me think that he was studying me. It was the undeniable feeling you get when you know someone's eyes are you.

"Huh," his inquisitive tone shattered the quiet,, "Jess said your last name was Sigrun…"

I wanted to be mad at Jess for revealing such things to him, but I realized that I needed to get the fuck over it...given the fact that I didn't even know if she had survived the darkness that had swallowed Exit that night…

"You have a raven tattoo on your right shoulder," Dante continued, "You're a fucking Valkyrie, aren't you?"

"If you want me to tell you anything, you'll fucking let me get the hell dressed!" I had lost it. The frustrations of my life and that night were finally starting to have their way with me.

"Fine. I'll bring the Jack." He slammed the door closed, which pissed me off (of course, that seemed to be the running theme with Dante). I whipped his stupid dego tee over my body (making sure all the important bits were coveredish) and then stormed through the door.

"Pour me a Jack on the rocks!" I declared with a snarl.

"Already done," He slid it across the table and I snatched it up like it was candy.

I downed it in one gulp and demanded, "Another." The slam of my glasses echoed about the trailer.

Dante poured it and slid the glass back, "If you insist…"

"Yes I'm a fucking Valkyrie," I confirmed in between sips, "I can handle myself well enough...things just got a little out of control…"

He laughed with his back to me as he grabbed himself a glass out of the cabinet. I noticed his own strange tattoo between his shoulder blades. I decided not to comment on it though...mostly because it actually looked good.

"Is that what you call it?" Dante's voice broke me free from my own thoughts. With a fresh drink in his hand, he joined me at the table.

"Yes, something like that." I glared him down.

Dante slammed the bottle of Jack down in the middle of the table, "Well that's a load of fucking bullshit… Why is Mundus after you?"

How did he know that? My reaction must have played across my face, because he was eying me and his own face twisted a bit.

Mundus had been in power for almost 9,000 years. If he was after you, you generally didn't live. I briefly recalled the legends of Nephilim. They held the power to kill the demon-king (to kill Satan) passing between three realms with ease. So was Mundus after Dante too? Maybe they had shown up there for him… Maybe it wasn't just me… but my name was the one associated with that place.. my identity was tied there…and I hadn't even heard whispers of Mundus hunting a Nephilim.

"Because he wants an ace, and in his mind I am the best of the best…" Dante studied me carefully as I poured myself another drink, "Who can lose if they hold a Valkyrie of the Victory Rune in their ranks…"

Long repressed memories began to wrap at the edges of my sanity. I shoved them down violently. I had worked so hard to get free, and now…

"Look, I know better than anyone that trusting someone is hard, but, Val," I met Dante's eyes then, "I might be a lot of things to a lot of people but I am no fucking demon-scum, and you can trust me."

It was the first time I had seen and believed that Dante was actually being genuine with me; the honesty in his eyes took me by surprise.

I sighed as I swirled the liquid in my glass around; the way the ice clinked against the sides of the rocks glass was strangely comforting, "Alright, but its a longish story."

"I've got nothing but time Ms. Sigrun." I hated that he knew my real last name. I hated that I ever told Jess my real last name...Maybe that was my problem...

"Mundus had managed to rise to his place of power by capturing my mother (Sigrun, the victory Valkyrie), and in the process he banished her lover, the Erlking. So for almost 9,000 years my father was unable to cross the barrier between the Never realm (where we hail from). He couldn't rescue my mother and he couldn't call the hunt. Until he broke free…"

"You're father is the Erlking? I thought all that was just legend…" He topped my drink off. I instantly gulped it down and made him pour me more. He smirked about that.

"Psh," I rolled my eyes, "Angels and Demons think they're so special, but the truth is they're both just another brand of the supernatural just like the rest of us, and they're not even the oldest. They just fuck like rabbits so there's so damn many of you." I punctuated my statement with an eye-roll, "And, oh yea, you guys suck at keeping a low profile. Always have to be intertwined with human affairs…"

"Hey, I didn't exactly sign up for this gig." Dante tapped his empty glass, "And quit trying to change the subject and don't act like you're surprised I caught on… I've been around you enough to know better…"

Fuck you, Dante.

I sighed in defeat and decided to continue my story:"So the Erlking broke out of the Never realm and immediately calls the the hunt. Mundus was lucky to live. He used my mother as a bargaining pawn. My father would do anything for her…."

"And then you came along." Dante smirked as he poured himself another drink.

"Something like that. Everything was fine until I was seven or eight… I can't recall. Anyways, Mundus found us. He was too chicken-shit to fight my father so he barred him away again. He killed my mother, and took me as a replacement."

"What does that mean exactly?" I was staring at the floor but I could feel Dante's eyes on me.

"It meant hell." I began softly, "I was made to fight for my life. I was made to turn battles in his favor, and take innocent lives. When I was old enough (if you could call it that), I was expected to fulfill other roles too, and I was a prisoner until I escaped...I left everything behind...Came to this city and bought a new life… Things have been quiet the past ten years"

When I looked over at Dante he was clenching both his fists tightly, "I wondered why 'work' was moving closer and closer to Exit. Now I know. At first, I thought they were onto me...but I always seemed to take them by surprise, like they were never looking for me at all..."

"Ugly, fat bastard," I slammed my fist into the table, "I'm not going back. He's not taking my life away again. I'll fucking die first!"

"All you're doing is giving me more reasons to kill the son of a bitch." He slammed the bottle of Jack down with a grunt.

"Someone should… I know the cycle of power will just continue… I know it's a battle that never ends…"I leaned back in my chair feeling a little more defeated than I would ever care to tell another soul. I guess I had always expected Mundus to find me someday, but I lived in a world where I pretended that day was when I was old and didn't give a shit… or maybe someone would just off him for me.

"Shut up," Dante spat, "If someone worth-while takes Mundus out they'll be able to keep a tight leash on the fucking demon-scum."

"Someone like you?" I cocked a brow as I brought my drink to my lips.

"Yea. Why not?" He shrugged and stole the bottle from the center of the table. He did the honors of topping of our glasses off.

"Don't take this wrong, but you just don't seem the type to care about something like-"

"Justice?" He finished for me. Dante's jaw set in a hard line, "I live the way I live because I expect to die before I ever really get the chance to know anything else. I run around killing scum and sometimes it's a good-paying gig, but I know on the other side there's just more emptiness and pain and one day there won't even be that."

Well, that made me feel like shit, "Dante." I rested my hand on his, "You're fighting all the wrong battles. This is a war. I know war. I know warriors, and you are a true warrior. You're a victor so I've decreed."

He chuckled a bit, "Was that the crazy surge of energy I felt during the fight?"

"Yes," I grunted a sigh, "It pains me to say it, but I'm war-bound to you…"

"You mean like I got your inner Valkyrie all hot and bothered with my battlecry?" Damn that devil smile. He stripped those ridiculous leather, fingerless gloves off.

I glared at him, "I've seen your warrior spirit and then chose you as my victor so fuck off."

He let out a ridiculous laugh as he tipped back in his chair, "I've never felt so high in battle."

"It's the first time I've chosen a victor because they had the essence of a warrior… It's the first time that the choice was essentially mine…." I trailed off recalling my days with Mundus.

Dante raised his glass, "So Val, what do you say? A Nephilim and a bad-ass Valkyrie: A fat, bastard demon-king's worst nightmare."

I raised my own glass, "Let's kill off this bottle before we decide to kill anything else."

"Fine," He clinked his glass into mine, "To being a team that would give demon-scum nightmares."

I just smirked at him, because I couldn't lie… the idea did appeal to absolutely every part of me, and Dante was the warrior legends are made up, and just crazy enough to pull it off.

But the full wrath of Mundus was something not to be taken lightly, and the idea of trusting Dante was something that was still less than tolerable at best.

But we were drinking Jack, had just kicked some major ass, and were well on our way to drunkville, so I would just live in my fantasy and let the whatifs and doubts wait until tomorrow.


	8. Jack and a shot of Reality

/././././././././.

"So what was the point of all that?" Dante and I were walking out of the bar; we'd just about reached the entryway when I'd asked him that question.

"Because I like to hear you sing, and so does everyone with half a fucking brain…" Dante's words were so nonchalant about it… I hadn't realized they had stopped me in my tracks until Dante pulled me forward, "Val, you can't just stand there."

As he pulled me forward he added, "Didn't you ever wonder why I never bothered you in the shower? Because it certainly had nothing to do with respecting your privacy or anything." His devilish cackle punctuated his statement.

I glanced at a near-by clock, "It's 12:32."

"Thanks time and temp." Dante retorted. Bellevue was so still; it was a little strange.

"We could always meet Kat and Vergil early." I suggested suddenly feeling hyper-vigilant.

"Nah, fuck those guys. We still got time. Might as well enjoy it." Dante pulled me into him with a chuckle.

I shook my head with a slight smirk, "Boy, you wouldn't even know what to do."

He shortened the distance between our faces and my recoil was instantaneous, "Maybe, but one of us is too chicken-shit to find out."

"That's what we call wisdom." I corrected him; he had no intention of letting me go.

"No, that's what we call fear… You don't want to let anyone in, ever, even if it means you face a lonely life… You know, that's not even fear; that's just stupidity."

"And you're the King of Smart?" I spat. Thunder rolled off in the distance, and the wind changed directions.

His chuckle was deep and rolled around in the empty night air, "I picked you, didn't I?"

"And that's smart...Clearly I'm a lost cause-" He placed a finger over my lip.

"I know of a better place to chat… Less eyes and ear. You interested?" With a cocked brow and that devil smirk, he knew I couldn't refuse.

I didn't. I just quietly followed along behind him.

/././././././././././././././././././././././././././././././.

I woke up the next morning feeling like hell. I wasn't sure if it was the wounds I had sustained or the massive amounts of Jack I had poured down my throat. I awoke with a start though, either because of a nightmare or because I subconsciously remembered where I was at.

I found myself alone in the bed. I immediately huffed a sigh of relief, but then noted Dante sleeping in a heap of covers on the floor. For the smallest hair of a second, I felt a little guilty, but I soon pushed that aside.

There was no sun out that morning; everything was a gray, lazy, hazy overcast. Good, it wouldn't intensify my headache when I went to leave. Although, the way Dante had all but barred daylight from entering his trailer made the thought of leaving hard...and the red satin sheets were so comfortable then I thought about what was probably on them…

I was still wearing Dante's stupid dego tank top… I couldn't leave that behind for obvious reasons. I briefly toyed with the idea of rinsing Dante's trailer-ness off my body in the shower, but I really didn't want him to wake up-

"So you're awake?" A shirtless Dante stared up at me from the floor where he was king of blanket mountain. His eyes were still sleepy, and his hair was disheveled mess.

"If that's what you'd like to call it, sure, why not." I was hoping I would leave before I had to speak with him again, but if wishes were horses…

"Aw is someone grouchy from a hangover?" He chuckled as he got to his feet, his words drenched in sarcasm, "Well, Sunshine, I know all kinds of cures for that." The devil grin painted his lips before he could even complete the statement.

All I could think was 'don't fucking call me Sunshine' but I kept it to myself.

"No, need I'm a big girl. I have to be getting home." I flipped the covers off of me as I got to my feet with a yawn and a stretch. Dante was less than two inches from my face when I opened my eyes again. I almost fell back onto the bed. He looked rabid.

"Are you fucking serious? After all that shit last night, you're just going to waltz over to your place like nothing happened? Like they won't be looking for you?!" His voice and his glare were angry. Suddenly, his messy onyx hair seemed more like horns than just a hot mess.

"Well-" Dante cut me off with a shove to the bed. It took me by surprise and I instantly tried to throw myself from that little prison, but Dante's hands pinned my shoulders before I could even realize what the fuck was happening.

He hovered over my face with a snarl, "Quit being fucking stupid! You can't go back!"

"Well, what about my stuff?!" I shouted back in all the pissy rage I could muster into words. I knew it was a wasted gesture; it's hard to seem like a threat when someone has you pinned.

"Fuck stuff!" Dante's eyes were wide with amazement at my thought process and attitude.

"I don't have anywhere else to go!" I shouted again, right in his stupid face. I didn't have friends. I didn't know people and I really didn't care too, and at that moment I was reminded that Jessica was probably dead. Even if she wasn't, my ass hanging around her certainly wouldn't help her chances of survival.

Dante's body weight pushed into mine a little rougher than I think he realize. Those stone-gray eyes almost looked blood-red in the dimness of his trailer.

"Yes, you do!" He shouted back. I could see the anger rolling around in his eyes, It was so volatile in there. Then some form of epiphany must have sucker punched him in the face: he was letting irrational anger get the better of him.

He pushed his body from the bed and moved to his kitchen without giving me a second glance, "You can stay here."

"That's absurd!" I spat full of piss and vinegar.

"Why?" Dante had stuck his head in the fridge so I couldn't see his face. His tone was at least somewhat neutral again. That was a good sign, right?

"Because…Because…" I stumbled over my own thoughts desperately trying to find a logical reason that I could tell him to take his offer and shove it up his ass, "Because I barely know you!"

And that was the best I could come up with…

"You know enough about me for us to be war-bound; In your world, that's enough to suffice, right?" I still couldn't see his face. All I could hear was his incessant rifling through various degrees of whatever it was he lined his fridge with. I found myself irritated that I couldn't read his face. What the fuck was he looking for anyways?

"I don't have any clothes!" I spat. It was true but honestly I just wanted to say something (anything) that would make him look at me again.

"Don't see how that's a problem." He finally emerged from the fridge with a gallon of milk. I finally won one...but it didn't feel like winning….

"I need my stuff!" Anger erupted from every pore in my body. I didn't really give a fuck about my things… I didn't really give a fuck about my clothes…. I was just pissed off that someone was telling me 'no', that my freedom was being restricted.

I was pissed because I knew Dante was right… and I wasn't going to be able to go back to the one place I found solace in.

"Damnit, Val!" Dante ripped opened the fridge and shoved the milk on the closet shelf available with a clatter, "Shut the fuck up!" The way he marched toward me would have been foreign to me up until yesterday.

"Come on" Dante's growl was commanding as he ripped his keys from off a hook on the wall and all but heaved his coat at me.

"Wait, why?!" I demanded to know as I grabbed his coat out of the air, "Where are we going?"

"Shopping." He snarled from the doorway with sheer impatience.

"Shopping?!" I was wide-eyed and mystified, "Shopping for what?!" I clung tight to the coat out of my own confusion. I couldn't be sure what was going on and Dante was all pissy… Usually, I rather enjoyed pissing him off….

"I don't know, Val," he huffed throwing a shirt over his form, "Whatever the fuck will make you shut the fuck up and stop spewing your nonsense."

"But-" I was about to be a complete cunt to him, but he cut me off by cornering me with his formidable presence, an arm of either side of me barring my way.

"I told you last night and I'll tell you again. Quit being stubborn," His teeth were clenched, "Yes, I know it fucking blows that you can't have your little fucking way. You can't just run around and do what you want, but it's live or be a dumbass. Guess which I'm not going to let you do?"

I just looked up at him like an angry five-year who just got told I couldn't eat an entire tub of ice cream because it would make me ill. I knew he was right; I just wanted to hate him for it at that particular moment, and eat my fucking ice cream.

"You can try to fight me if you want, but your wings will just destroy the shirt you have on. Either way, I win. So are you done with your little tantrum? Can we move on with our lives now?" He removed the hand he had planted firmly against the wall from beside my head and moved to the door again.

"You want me to go like this?" My voice sounded tiny and squeaky.

He just glared like the devil from the door, "Do you want clothes or not?"

"Coming." I squeaked again as I threw the coat over myself like a cape. I hate feeling naked… I lacked a true shirt and a bra. Fuck my life.


	9. Sobriety

I hope this provides you all as much of an escape as it does me. Let's run away together ;) lol jk. Now back to your regularly scheduled programming... Enjoy!

/././././././././././././././.

Dante liked this old, run-down fun-house. God only knows why, but I'd come to learn that it was somewhere he liked to hide when his trailer got a little too claustrophobic. Weird, I know, but it's Dante, what the fuck else could I expect?

I wasn't surprised when he lead me there. I suppose even the preternatural are creatures of habit, at least to a point.

"So is this the part where you sweep me off my feet, using your big 'move'?" The neon lights lazily flickered; they played with the shadows, mirrors, strange statues and the early 1900s-esque decor that littered the small hallway. That tiny hallway fanned out into a large open area that housed a carousel nearly a century old. In all my oddities, where most would have found it creepy, I found it beautiful.

"How many others have you brought here?" Why the fuck did I care? I should've have stopped myself from asking but I was too transfixed on one of the antique horses: black, adorned in deep reds and silvers. My fingers ran along it's saddle as I pretended to pay no attention to Dante.

"Fuck you; none," Dante snarled as he hoisted himself upon the horse I had found myself distracted by, thereby stealing it as a tool I could ignore him with. His pose relaxed and the irritation seemed to roll off him quickly.

Dante cocked a brow and gave me a slight head nod, "You make no bones about your baggage; It's all right there, in your anger and your insults. It would almost be cute if you weren't so bitchy."

I crossed my arms with a huff, "Whatever."

Dante's cackle reverberated off of everything it touched. That fun-house was like its own little world. It was a bubble (no sound in, no sound out). It gave his cackle a little more bite than I wanted to endure, and shook his body something terrible. The neon lights played lightly against his pale skin and his onyx hair.

"See there you go!" Dante declared as he jetted forward lessening the space between his face and mine. There was a playful snarl on his face, "You do care. You fucking know you do."

There was this strange moment where I nearly screamed. Dante's lips were hovering mere inches from mine and it was like a fuse in my brain blew. I didn't particularly enjoy it. Yet, some dumbass portion of me seemed disappointed when the rest of me realized he was simply sliding off the damn horse, and he strode right past me.

That is, until he heard my quick footsteps in the opposite direction. My plan was to run away. In many ways, I was more terrified of my own feelings than Mundus. I realize that, that is definitely somewhere between unhealthy and absolutely fucked up, but that didn't make it any less true.

"Nahuh! Where do you think you're going?" Dante's gloved hand easily encircled my left wrist, "I can't be that scary." He chuckled a bit and pulled me back toward the carousel.

I didn't know how to put my terror into words so I just growled at him, "You're impossible."

Dante's weight rested lazily upon the edge of the carousel. He attempted to manipulate my movements so I would end up on his lap, thus making him a psuedo-chair, but my slim wrists were too quick for him, and I threw myself upon that horse as if it were going to magically take me somewhere else.

Dante just looked up at me for a moment, quiet, thoughtful, so still that it actually worried me for a moment. A tiny half-smile spread across his lips and he shook his head with a laugh, "You're right, Val. I'm not exactly 'smart', but I know for damn sure that any time I spend on you isn't wasted, so get the fuck over it."

"Shut up," My voice was nearly breathless and I couldn't bring myself to look at him.

"No!" He barked playfully, "Val, you know I come here to get away from everything. This is the closest thing I have to paradise. Why do you think no one else has seen it?"

With one swift and fluid motion Dante had acrobatically placed him on the carousel platform and his body found a place between mine and the head of that old, tired horse: "Why do you think I've protected _you_, given a fuck about _you_, and I haven't brought another soul here except, who?"

One of his rough hands lifted my chin. He gently forced me to meet his eyes. I couldn't hide any more. It was almost painful, but somewhat freeing...It terrified me beyond all thought...Suddenly, I wasn't in control some other strange and unpredictable feeling was...and the thought of trusting Dante with _that_…

His body slid closer to mine; the mere closeness of him and the way he was looking at me stopped everything else that was trying to process through my brain.

"Me, except me." I squeaked. I had to have been trembling, because that's what my insides were screaming at me. If I had been any form of intoxicated before that moment, my own terror had chased all that way and left me stone sober.

"Uh-huh." Dante nodded his mouth half-opened with a half-smirk, "Because you're not everyone else. I might not be 'smart' or 'educated' or whatever the fuck it is 'real' people obtain through school or books… but even I'm not as big a dumbass as the girl who doesn't get that I fucking care about her."

I couldn't breathe. Dante's arms wrapped their way around my lower back and pulled me close to him; my legs rested atop his, and his forehead rested softly against mine.

"So can you please just get the fuck over yourself?" His words were soft and comforting in the calm glow of neon lights and the unmistakable quiet of peaceable silence.

I felt one of his hands make the journey to my right cheek. Dante paused there for a moment, and I could hear his heart thumping, or was it mine? No, it was Dante's determined, obnoxious, fuck-everyone-else heartbeat. It made me crack a smile, and I couldn't help but rest my hand upon it as it push back with everything it had.

Our eyes danced for the moment that followed. A thousand conversations happened all with one gaze, one simple instant of eye-contact, yet it was so complex, so in-depth. Then, there was the second that all those non-verbal conversations halted, because everything in Dante's being declared he was going to kiss me and I was going to like it...and I had stopped fighting.

If Dante had been any closer when Kat burst in shouting our names, he would've claimed my lips and probably ignored Kat altogether, but that moment never happened…

Dante's hand fell limply from my cheek as his forehead fell to my shoulder in a what appeared to be defeat, "What the fuck do you want, Kat?" Why did Dante sound so breathless?

The young girl was taken aback. Dante's tone was sharper than he probably realized. She seemed to look around helplessly for the words she wanted to say as she hid in the recesses of her hood, "Vergil. Vergil says we can't wait any longer. We have to prepare now."

Dante took out an old pocket-watch, "It's not even witching hour." He snapped it shut with a grunt. The sound echoed through dark open spaces of the room. Those echoes were the icing on his pissy cake.

"I know," Kat declared in a mousy voice, "But time's up."

Vergil stepped out from the shadows. The silhouette of his long, asymmetrical jacket and the curled brim of his hate gave him away before his voice could, "Dante, you don't go to war without being certain of your plan."

"But I have a plan," Dante declared throwing himself off the horse, then offering me his hand, "Kill things and win."

/././././././././././././././././././././././.

Jessica's funeral was small. Not that it mattered. I wouldn't be talking to anyone or even technically making an appearance. Obviously, I was keeping a low profile because Dante was right. God, I hated knowing that: that Dante was _actually_ right.

The bigger issue with me "showing up" was that I was marked as "dead" the night Exit was ripped from one realm into another. It would be all of retarded for me to correct that mistake. Obviously, Mundus knew better. He was smarter than that...but it certainly made it easier for me to cut ties with the life I given myself during peace-time and return to my warrior role for battle: the day-to-day struggle to survive.

War is expensive. It costs you your identity long before it takes your life.

Dante and I stood in the shadows as Jess's friends and family watched them lower her casket into the ground. My heart ached of guilt. I had cost the woman her life. There was really no other way to logic myself around that fact. I had cost her a chance to find something better than the shit Limbo City had to offer, and I had made her pay that price because I wanted to selfishly hide in the corner rather than fight the battle that was destined to be my mantle.

I was a fucking coward bitch.

See, usually that sort of shit is beyond my thoughts. I don't keep friends. I don't have family and I am never hunting for one either... But I had worked with Jess for two years and the fact was she gave a face to my own selfishness. I almost hated her for it.

It pissed me off when I realized I was too sad to hate her.

The weather reflected my mood: cold, harsh, gray. The ground was still a little frozen from the rough winter and everything was so still that the silence was deafening. They made the muffled sobs and sad moans from Jess's farewell seem so fucking loud -like they were blaring in my eardrums.

"Fuck this." I declared in a huff as I rushed off. I couldn't stand it anymore.

"Where the hell are you going?" Dante fell into step with me.

"To get revenge," I growled. I didn't even look at him. I didn't want to. It was like I was naked in that moment and if I didn't have to make eye-contact I was determined not to.

"You can hunt Mundus down, right?" I added wrapping my coat around myself a little tighter.

"Whoa, yesterday, you wouldn't even talk about Mundus. You told me it was impossible. That we'd die and should just pick off the scum to help keep humanity just above the surface of insanity. You said drunken musings are a fucking joke, and if we were smart we would just run." Dante's hand found my wrist and I reluctantly met his gaze, "What the fuck happened to all that shit?"

"Because my self-preservation made me a coward. I hid behind something and it ended up costing others; I'm a goddamn coward. Like fucking Mundus... I am a Valkryie, not a coward, not a devil, and I'm done."

There was a strange shift in the air. It cooled then thickened. It was smothering, and inviting all at once. It pulsated like an electric current and it danced along every inch of my body, and drove my blood-lust to the point of shrieking.

And then, I noticed the similar fashion in which it was effecting Dante. I drew in a sharp breath before I could even think about it. It only strengthened that determined, pissy aura he carried.

"Consider this my declaration of War." I gritted through angry, clenched teeth.

"It's all official now?" His fucking smirk and cocked brow almost made me lose my temper, "I've been waiting for you to get the fuck over yourself and come to your senses for two days now."

"That's cute." I could feel my gaze darken as my instinctual nature began to surpass my subconscious, "When do I fight?"

The devil-smirk took his lips, "Patience, General. We need an army to fight a war."


	10. Twist off the Cap

Dear All: It is good to be back. I am sorry for taking forever to get this out. Damn my perfectionism! I hope you enjoy this next chapter, and don't forget, two time-lines are taking place congruently!

Ok. Ready. Set. Dante!

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Vergil had insisted that battle prep be done at The Order's HQ. Sometimes it was hard for me to imagine that he and Dante were even related. Don't get me wrong, they were both dicks, but they were both dicks in their own asshole way on the opposite ends of the asshole spectrum.

Vergil (with his cane, trench-coat, and stupid-ass fedora) walked around with his nose held high. He never directly said it, but his aura screamed it: he thought he was better than everyone, including his twin-brother Dante (though they looked almost nothing alike). Vergil's presence carried the weight of arrogance. He was the height of all evolution and he seemed to be waiting for the world around him to understand and accept that fact.

Dante, on the other hand, didn't give a fuck about what anyone else's social status was or what the fuck they thought. He just was who he was and if someone had a problem with it they could fuck off for all he cared. Dante wasn't going to bend to anyone's will or be something that he wasn't. He was Dante and the rest of world would just have to fucking deal with it.

Like I said earlier, they were the opposite ends of the asshole spectrum.

And Kat would follow Vergil blindly, anywhere. No one ever said it, but they were fucking. Only a complete moron wouldn't pick up on that. It was the only reason I held back when it came to trusting Kat... because I knew deep down where her heart would truly lie. She would live and die by Vergil, and I didn't have it in me to trust Vergil.

It was something that I briefly lamented because in another circumstance Kat and I couldn've been close... true allies, but not like that... not with Vergil.

Dante seemed to with-hold from Vergil as well. I was smart enough to know he didn't fully trust his brother. I would never tell Dante, but it was something that actually made me respect him more... At the very least, it restored my faith in his judgment. That was a thought that frightened me. How bad were things if I was putting stock in Dante's judgment calls? Fuck my life.

Long story short. Vergil was a dick and I loathed him. The Valkryie in me hated him and the me in me hated him. Period. But war isn't about being best friends with anyone. It's about being diplomatic because the enemy of your enemy is your new fake bestie.

It didn't help that in that particular moment I had just spent 15 minutes listening to him spout out his master-plan for Mundus' take-down as if he were Odin himself...which he most certainly was not.

So in my own defense, I really couldn't stop my mouth when I spat the words, "Sounds to me like Dante and I are just around to do your dirty work."

Vergil's eyes had not touched me once before that moment. Of course, they never directly touched anyone. If you paid close enough attention to Vergil, you would realize that he only makes eye contact with two individuals: his own reflection and Dante. Not even Kat got direct eye-contact from him...How she didn't notice that he would slyly stare at her nose while he wooed her into doing his bidding was beyond me.

He wouldn't look me in the eye either. Most of the time he wouldn't look at me period. I got the vague impression that my presence irritated him because it was something he did not calculate into his plans, but the value of my services was too valuable to turn down, even if I was just a lackey.

But when the Valkryie in me spoke, even the high and mighty Vergil could not deny me eye-contact. I watched him pause; for a brief moment, I saw the demon in him, however it was quickly replaced with the painted, plastic angelic mask he so often wore.

"Well my battle-born friend," he adjusted his fedora and I tried with all that I had not to vomit at the way he called me 'friend', "Surely, you know that only a fool tells his enemy all his secrets. Mundus knows of you and my brother, but he knows nothing of my existence."

"That makes you our insurance policy then?" Dante idly cleaned his shotgun and attempted to look uninterested in the conversation, but I knew better. He didn't look at Vergil. Not because he thought he was better than Vergil, but because he knew sometimes in life 'blood' doesn't mean shit.

"Essentially, yes." Vergil placed his hand on Dante's shoulder. Dante had placed himself at a table in the large stone room (that was ironically lined with the most state-of-the-art technology society had to offer). Hackers are fucking weird.

I caught Dante's eye the moment Vergil touched him. I knew that look. It said 'take your fucking hand off me'. I bit my tongue as Dante shrugged Vergil off. Why had I suddenly felt the urge to defend Dante? He was a grown asshole and enough of a dick to do it himself.

"Besides," Vergil added as he placed his cane adjacent to Dante's weapon, "You have the battle-maiden."

"Then we don't need an insurance policy." Dante spat without a second thought. There was no pissy tone to his voice but I could see it in his face. Vergil was our means to an end and Dante planned on carrying out his own plans with or without Vergil's assistance. But with The Order supporting us...Again, the enemy of my enemy...

"I suppose that could be accurate," Vergil turned to me, "She does protect the cause."

"No," I quickly corrected him, "I protect my cause and Dante. Let's not have any misunderstandings here." Once again the Valkyrie within spoke before I could muzzle her.

Vergil chuckled a bit, "Battle has made you bitter. You're smart not to trust me, and I am equally smart not to trust you, hence my insurance policy."

I caught Kat in my peripheral vision; she was hiding in the recesses of her hood (as fucking usual), because it was easier than taking a side.

Dante chose that moment to stand. . The noise his shotgun made as he cocked it punctuated the conversation and echoed like a motherfucker in that stone room.

"It doesn't really fucking matter either way, because we won't fail." Dante didn't hesitate in his march toward the door and my inner-Valkryie could respect that, so I followed suit.

"Kat are you gonna drive us to the Verility factory or will Val have to fly us there too?" All the bitter and pissed-off, asshole bite was back in Dante's bark and he was ready for battle.

Fine. So was I.

"No," Kat squeaked and hustled to keep step with Dante and I, "I'll drive you. I have to get you in anyway."

"You hold down the fort." I sarcastically growled at Vergil. I feel like I should get some points for that though, because I managed to stop myself from giving him the one-finger salute.

When you're a bitter bitch that is one for the books, ok?

/./././././././././././././.

"Brother, you've arrived." Vergil rose from the computer screen he was pouring over so that he could greet Dante.

"Yea, that's how transportation works." Dante was moody. Of course, he was always some degree of moody but this was different...

Vergil's somewhat pleased expression instantly dissipated when he saw me, "Dante, I thought I made it clear: no outsiders. It poses a great risk to us."

"If you want my help then you'll get it on my terms. She stays. She's with me. End of story." Dante strode right past Vergil to the computer that hummed on a near-by desk.

"Plus, what fucking moron says 'no' to a Valkryie on their team," Dante had fixed his attention on the computer and didn't feel the need to look at his brother, "That would be Darwinism at its finest."

Vergil let out an empty chuckle, "I suppose you're right." Vergil then thrust his right hand toward me without meeting my gaze, "Welcome aboard, Miss?"

Two seconds in and I had already pegged him for what he was and decided I hated him, "Valasta." I spat and cursed under my breath that I had to touch his hand.

"Nice to make your acquaintance, Valasta. What prompted you to join my brother on this mission?" Vergil delicately pulled his hand away and reached for his cane.

My arms instantly went across my chest, and I wore all my attitude on my sleeves. To the untrained cynic that would have sounded like a polite and genuine question, but I have never been the run of the mill cynic.

No, I was the hyper-vigilant and ever-observant, crazy person who would pick on all the non-verbals that are nearly invisible to the naked eye.

Like the way that Vergil's facial muscles had tightened at the beginning and the end of his question, or the way the tapping sound from his cane quickened, or the way he still had not made direct eye contact with me and the way that those eyes contradicted every content and pleasant facial expression he made.

All of those non-verbals told me what he was truly saying: _why the fuck are you here? What information can I possibly use to my benefit later?_

"Blood, guts, glory," I took a slight step toward him holding my ground, "My favorite past-times to kill boredom."

"Who are these pictures of?" Dante's question broke up the little meet-n-greet session Vergil and I were having, not that I was heartbroken over it. I had already been required to converse with him longer than my body wanted to allow. The fact that I hadn't inflicted bodily harm upon him was a feat of accomplishment.

Vergil crossed the space between he and Dante as he declared, "That would be our family."

"Nah," Dante began putting as much distance between himself and the computer as humanly possible, "You've got that wrong. I-"

Why was Dante so close to me all of sudden?...Why did he seem so small?

He shook his head and waved off Vergil's claim, "I don't have any fucking family."

"Why would you say that?" Vergil took a step closer. If I wasn't a silver of civilized, I would have hissed at him. "How could you possibly think-"

"Because that's not the way I fucking remember it!" Dante pointed at him, "And I might pretend to buy into your crazy theory that we are brothers because I'm fucking tired of Mundus, but I don't take anything I'm told at face-value, ever."

Vergil threw his head back and chuckled, "Yes, I suppose that's wise!" Vergil reached toward Dante and Dante met his brother's eyes with a warning scowl, "What do you remember of your childhood?"

"Nothing good. I got meningitis when I was seven. Don't remember anything before that." Dante casually used my shoulder as an arm rest. It was meant to look playful and nonchalant, but his energy was all wrong. It flowed like choppy waves instead of his usual gentle tide of 'I could give a fuck'. The waters were restless.

"Same thing. Car accident. Seven." Vergil words separated by the quick lash of his bladed tongue, "What does that tell you?"

"I don't know, Vergil. That our family has some shitty luck, and a whole lot of memory issues." Dante's words also had a serrated edge to them. His tense facial muscles told me that he was straining very hard to remain indifferent and uncaring; his eyes stoic gray eyes had lost their mysterious aura. The tiniest sliver of abandonment lay there. Dante was fidgeting with his coat far too much, and with his restlessness and vulnerability his battle aura began to pour from his soul: ready to strike. It was a call to arms only a Valkryie could hear and it was his natural reaction to any situation that pushed at his long-forgotten hurt and old, jagged scars. That was a call to arms only I could hear, only I could understand.

My new found empathy allowed me to keep from throwing his heavy form off my shoulder... He was still casually leaning there.

"I want to show you where we grew up." Vergil said those words so softly, as he pretended he wasn't taking those razor-bladed syllables and shoving them in Dante's ears, and straight to a battle-worn soul.

I watched the flash in Dante's face. It was subtle, but it was the manifestation of an expression all too familiar to me. The expression one only has when scar tissue is re-opened and is once again a gaping, fresh, weeping wound. It's an expression that is equal parts pain, deja vu, and apathy. It lacks the horrified eyes of an initial wound, and has a strange level of acceptance.

I stood a resolute statue and resting place for the Devil-Slayer, but what I wanted to do more than anything was comfort him. My empathy and the nerve it hit with my past made me more emotional than I'd like to admit.

"Whatever." Dante ran a hand threw his short, choppy, dark hair, "I'm sure Val is just itching to go on a field trip. Ain't that right, Val?"

My words rushed to my mouth in response to his subtle request for aid before I could stop them, "It's a date."


	11. The Losing Hand

All your lovely reviews gave me lots of motivation to update. I have a few chapters in the works :) I suppose I will take this as the up-side to some recent troubles. Enjoy interwebz!

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Virility was a cess-pool... of course, all of fucking Limbo City was a fucking cess-pool so I suppose the factory wasn't anything new &amp; the sad part was we hadn't even made it back to where the big bads were hiding; we hadn't even crossed into Limbo yet.

Mundus was rotting the world from the inside out, starting with the humans, and you could see it in their eyes. All the fight, all the determination, all the hope that makes even the most broken push forward...it was gone. It was missing from all their eyes. They littered the factory, on mindless sheep-structured tours. They didn't blink. They didn't think. Not once.

For a moment, it nearly made me vomit. What hope was there if they could never see?

"Eye on the prize, Val." Dante nudged me. He cracked a strangely reassuring smile as we ascended the escalator.

But I couldn't quell the terror in my soul. Were Dante and I fated to become that? To become the hopeless? The damned? The mindless and listless? The broken without redemption? My pulse quickened. I would rather be dead than a shell...to have Mundus strip me of all that made me powerful. The greatest weapon I ever wielded in battle and in life was my will...and to have that threatened...

My breath hitched as my pulse took on a will of its own...to see Dante stripped of his determination and fire-driven will-power...my stomach twisted with nauseating fury. Seeing him like that would be like seeing an angel have it wings torn from its flesh, a heaping mess of gore where there should be pristine white...

"Dante." My breathless whisper left me before I could stop it, and I hated myself for it. You don't have moments of weakness in public. You never forfeit control where eyes are watching, and especially not on the brink of battle.

Kat was yammering on like a loud buzzing in my ear; it drove me closer and closer to the brink of my own insanity. What was this? Why was I so thoroughly losing control? Dante and I had talked about this... We had a plan... We would be ok...

If it wasn't for the fact I knew Mundus was watching me closely, (somewhere, with his fat, useless dick hard at the thought of destroying me...making me cry in agony and fear...stealing my identity once again, then ending my life) I would have screamed until my vocal cords burst and blood came eagerly rushing toward my trembling lips.

I had repressed so much for so long, I never stopped to acknowledge, mourn, or even mend what had been stolen.

I cursed myself for that, because I was going into battle less prepared than I had intended, less prepared than I had realized.

When had we stepped into Limbo?

"Val," both Dante's hands were planted firmly on either side of my face, "I don't know what the fuck is going on in that head of yours, but knock it the fuck off. You should know I won't let anything happen to you... or shit, me. I like myself too much and I still haven't slept with you yet."

He grinned that devil grin and then suddenly everything was ok. Not because his will-power was surging for through the war-bound connection that linked our very souls &amp; not because he was my chosen victor. Hell, it wasn't even because Dante was a force to be reckoned with even when he's not armed to the tee (which he most certainly was to storm Virility). It was ok because he was there with me &amp; I hated that, that was becoming a normal feeling &amp; sense of reassurance I was beginning to carry. Fuck my life.

I playfully pushed him, "What the fuck ever. Like I need you to save me. Please."

"So then we will sleep together?"

"Fuck you," I snarled suddenly all the fight came rushing back to my veins.

"That was the general idea." He leered like a fucking dick.

././././././././././././././././././.

"I don't fucking like it, ok?" I declared as I snatched the bottle of Jack from Dante and discarded a three of clubs. Dante had suggested we play Rummy. Maybe it was because he somehow knew that my mind needed a distraction-even if it were only for twenty minutes. I both loathed and adored him for that.

Of course, who knows, maybe he thought he could get my clothes off. He had tried like hell to get to me to wager on the game. I may not be 'old' but I was certainly old enough to have seen that trick before, and wise enough not to fall for it.

"You don't fucking like anything." He smirked and threw down the two of hearts &amp; it slid to its place on the discard pile at the center of his make-shift, tired kitchen table. Which by the way, was certainly at the top of its game; I mean, as far as ancient, oak, been through hell &amp; then some tables go. It really went with the trailer's bachelor, pretty-boy, play-boy look he was trying to drape his place in.

I drew, laid out my book of tens and took a long, drawn-out pull on the Jack. My breath hitched a bit as came up for air, "Fair point, but I REALLY don't like the idea of working with those two..."

He played off my tens and stole the Jack back from me.

"You can't play off my books til you have your own book!" I scolded while he gulped down the Jack.

"And quit hogging all the Jack!" I added.

"Picky, picky; you fish" He chided and slid the Jack back toward me and scooped up his ten of diamonds in one swift movement, "You just don't like Kat because you're worried I'll fuck her."

"I don't give a fuck about Kat," I snarled as I played a low straight, "Besides, she's clearly all about Vergil's cock." I discarded the eight of clubs, "if you didn't try to cheat and I wouldn't be so picky."

I took a quick swig of Jack while he drew his next card, careful to keep an eye on his hands the entire time.

"You think everyone is fucking everyone because the universe has to compensate for your lack of sex." He leered at me from over the cards fanned out in his hand.

He laid out three jacks, "And don't talk about Vergil's dick... it's just weird to hear it from your mouth."

"Fuck you," I snatched a card from the top of the deck not even a nano-second after he had discarded, "And now who's the jealous one?" I played a jack off of him and took a swig from the bottle.

"You won't fuck me. Did you forget?" He laid out three kings and yanked the bottle from me, "And I'm not threatened. I know you wouldn't touch Vergil even if he could cum 100 dollar bills."

"He's hiding something." It was then I realized just how quiet Dante's kitchen had become. The play list he had serenading us from his phone had ceased and only the creaking of the ceiling fan whined at us from above.

And all I could think about was way the way Dante hovered about me when Vergil spoke of their family...when Vergil had exposed his vulnerability and attempted to mercilessly exploit it.

But Dante was stronger than that and I would be damned before I ever let Vergil-

The snapping sound the three Aces made as I laid them out forced Dante to crack a smile and it mercifully shattered my thought process.

I wanted to ask why Dante was grinning like a Cheshire cat but I held off and instead stole the bottle from him again. It seemed my broken thoughts were lingering just a bit.

"Val, if you think I've survived this long by not understanding all the cards everything around me holds then you're more dense than I thought." He continued to grin that trademark devil-smile, laid out the fourth Ace, followed by all three Queens, and he was out.

"Motherfucker." I whispered as I threw my cards down on the table.

I wanted to accuse him of cheating but I knew he hadn't. I had watched his hands the entire time...and I play close to the chest and I wouldn't let him see a damn thing.

Dante stood and leaned over the table grabbing a hold of the Jack and hovering mere inches from my face, "I know what I want. I have my end game, and I know exactly what I need because I know exactly which cards everyone around me is holding. I will use whatever is available to me if it means I can get what I want out of it."

My grip on the bottle tightened as I stared him down, "And just what exactly do you want?"

"I want Mundus dead and you safe." His jaw-line tightened. Was he offended I had asked such a question?

"Are you sure I'm not just some means to your theoretical end?" It was the paranoia in me asking and, for some reason, I instantly regretted it.

"No dumbass," He growled yanking the bottle from my grip with furrowed brows, "You're the reason for it all."

"Pardon my paranoia." I barked in a huff and crossed my arms, "But suddenly, I have to trust three fucking people I barely know and one of them I absolutely despise." Vergil. I despised Vergil...Vergil was a scheming son of a-

"Wrong!" Dante shouted as he slammed the bottle down &amp; yanked me back into reality, "You only have to trust one of us. Me. Val, you only have to trust me and you should know that!"

I held my ground resolute &amp; without a response. My expression must have been a strange combination of ice &amp; rebellion.

His glare defiantly met my own, "Only a complete fucking retard would betray your loyalty."

I immediately snapped, "Why because I'm the ace in battle? Because I'm a Valkyrie?"

"No," a half-smirk possessed his lips as a thought played across those slate gray eyes, "Because you're you, no fucking supernatural bullshit needed. You realize I just got you to admit that you are, in fact, loyal to me? Right? I mean, it was indirect, but still-"

"Whatever, think what you like." I threw my losing hand down on the table and tried to look any place other than the Devil-Slayer's dark eyes, because if I did they would see. They would stare straight threw me.

"Ok, sure," He snickered a bit, "Val, you're impossible." He lunged toward me in an attempt to (I imagine) force me to stop hiding my gaze from him. Effectively, it took him from one side of the table to the other in less time than a blink. Alas, I was faster. My body glided to the other side of the table. I slid it across it with feline grace and acrobatic swiftness.

Unfortunately, that asshole had somehow found a way to wrap his fingers around my left wrist and that vice-like grip wouldn't let me budge. It left us both in an awkward position. Dante was sprawled out on his back over the table: one leg on the floor, the other hung in the air. I was twisted with my left arm behind me and firmly, I grasped the Jack in my right (because shut up, ok?). Essentially, we had traded our respective sides of the table &amp; it made neither of us the winner.

So, I did the only thing I could; I feebly attempted to put as much distance between him and I that I could...Despite the fact that fucker had me twisted up like a pretzel.

"What if Vergil had said you weren't invited to the family reunion or what if I had said I wanted to go alone?" He leered from below me. I slyly eyed him from my peripheral vision.

I stopped myself from barking 'I would punch you both in the face because I do what the fuck I want!'

However, Dante had chosen that moment (that tiny silver of second where he knew he would elicit a tiny emotional response from me, where I would be off-guard) to push on the pressure point in my wrist. That action effectively twisted me like goddamn dancer in a music-box and brought me face-to-face with the Devil-Slayer. My lofty vantage point gone, and I was leveled (literally) to his playing field.

I wanted to snarl at him like a feral fucking beast but instead I just growled, "I am a Valkyrie; I do not abandon true warriors in their hour of need."

The smirk melted off his face and for the slightest second his weakness show. I watch the Demon-hunter fully comprehend &amp; recognize that the only person who had truly seen his vulnerability earlier that day was me.

Not Vergil. It was I who knew his secrets. It was I who saw the raw, scared little boy... lost and abandoned... no home, and no one to love him, but darkness.

I nearly shivered at the thought.

His playful smirk appeared as if it had never left at all, "That's just you're Valkyrie way of saying you want in my pants, right?"

Clearly, deflection was a handy tool in his own arsenal of 'get the fuck out of my head'.

"Ugh," I groaned as I attempted to twist my wrist from his grasp, but he simply used a flick of his own wrist to manipulate my entire arm. The next thing I knew, I was face up on the table and he was hovering over me as he roared with laughter.

"Look at me and tell me you don't give a shit what happens to me, because it's fucking hysterical when you try to lie to me." Mischievous eyes &amp; messy dark hair began to move closer to me as he straddled me.

Full blown panic erupted in my mind &amp; probably fried a few brain-cells.

"Fuck off!" I struggled like hell under him &amp; tried too push him off. I shut my eyes tightly in an effort to block him out &amp; reign in whatever nonsense was going on in my head.

"I speak 'Val' so I know that means I'm right and you want me to take you right now!" His dark chuckle made my head hurt, "Better speak up or maybe I'll give you what you really want."

Everything felt like it was buzzing &amp; my entire body tried to scream...

However, I was too pissed to give him want he wanted so I opted for something better; my eyes shot open: "Someone has to help me indulge in my drinking and fighting fetishes." Sarcasm was my go-to in moments of honesty without out full disclosure. I could deflect just as well the Demon-hunter.

That dark chuckle coated the kitchen once more, "Whatever, Val."

I internally cheered in victory; my sarcasm had somehow forced Dante to release me and he had even walked away...

That is until he retorted, "I will be sleeping in my bed tonight. That doesn't mean you have to sleep on the floor. It just means if you want to be comfortable then you're stuck with me."

Damn him. That was two games in a row he had won that night.

"You're such a penis." I muttered under my breath as I stared up at the ceiling fan.


	12. Rise to the Occasion

/././././././././.

It ripped at me to watch Dante stand helpless before the place he once called home. He claimed not to remember, but the subtle hints of fear speckled across his face said that he had known the truth all along... &amp; he hated every word of it. In those moments, I hated them too... I hated them for the way they made him writhe in agony. My only prayer was that Vergil never saw an ounce of it.

Dante looked small. His larger than life persona crushed before the weight of his past. It took all that I had to refrain from taking his hand. I placed all of that pent up energy in glaring at Vergil. That asshole hole needed to come down a peg or five. I was ready to oblige if he ever took me up on that offer.

Vergil painted his face with faux concern for his twin, but I've seen clowns with better make up &amp; I've heard more convincing sob stories from junkies. Vergil rambled on about this &amp; that. Once upon a time they were a happy family...

_Once upon time I gave a shit. Wait, no I didn't._

I've seen enough evil in my day to know that the most dastardly of men play the part of the victim up until they plant the knife in your back. The crazy part about it all is that I couldn't gauge how Dante was responding to any of Vergil's prattling. We made our way through the house, wandering the halls of Limbo, &amp; I felt more like I was wandering the maze of Dante's mind... &amp; I actually cared if I made it out. I cared if I made it to the end to find out just what awaited me there. I could have cussed both Dante &amp; Vergil out for that notion. However, I remained quiet, that is, until my body felt I hadn't met the day's F bomb quota &amp; I had grown tired of the droning monotone of Vergil's nonsense.

"Would you just just the fuck up?! You make a girl regret not bringing her flask along for the ride." I growled; I could sense the underworld was amiss &amp; the demons were coming. Vergil's voice only served to deaden my senses.

"Are you to say that you would drink in the line of your duty?" Vergil huffed with a tilt of his hat &amp; the tap of his cane, "Dante, how can you keep such company?"

Dante's eyes were spacey. In that moment, I believed that the Demon-Hunter had ignored his brother all together.

Then he reached in trench-coat &amp; passed me a flask, "Easy. She's a hell-cat, sure. But she knows when to shut the fuck up &amp; she holds her liquor." Dante's eyes darted about quickly. His shoulders were tense &amp; as I took a pull on the nectar he'd passed me, I noticed the way his hands balled into fists. His breathing changed.

"Vergil, this little reunion has been a real after-school special, but I think this is one of those roads I need to walk alone." Dante was resolute. There was something comforting in the realization that he sensed the same danger as I.

"Very well then the three of shall wait here," Vergil declared holding out a arm to halt Kat's forward progress. I was praying to anything that would listen that Vergil wouldn't be stupid enough to touch me -lest he wished to have one less limb for the remainder of his life.

Before I could tell Vergil exactly where he could shove his decision making skills, Dante spoke up: "Val's with me."

"Brother, do you think it wise? This is our home. Our solace. You cannot be sure of what defenses our Mother &amp; Father put in place to outsiders." Vergil's bright blue eyes glowed like the frozen tundra of boring he was.

"Yes, I think it's wise to take the fucking Valkyrie with me." Dante's tone was filled with an air of 'duh' &amp; he punctuated the statement with a pull on the flask, "Besides, she's with me so that's all that counts. Ok?"

I briefly wondered how much it pissed-off King Vergil the Magnificent that we didn't bother to wait for his reply; we'd just dashed off in the direction Dante wished. My thought was interrupted by Dante passing me the flask and some of his wit, "Val, you can be pain in the ass, but I swear, you're far more tolerable than my own flesh &amp; blood &amp; 99% of whatever the fuck else walks this earth."

I would have laughed at that &amp; maybe called him a sap looking to get some, but instead my response was, "Shut the fuck up. We're not alone here. We've been followed."

"Let whatever devalues its fucking life find us. I am more interested in this." Dante's fingers caressed the brush-strokes of a large painting decorated with an ornate gold trim. A man with dark hair &amp; Dante's 'piss-off' glint sparkling from his eyes was the subject of the art piece. He stood tall, proud, &amp; powerful. The painting gave the impression that the man knew exactly what he wanted &amp; would be damned if anything would stop him. A demon without question &amp; a heart-breaker without protest.

I didn't have the heart to declare the realization that pulsed through me when I compared the portrait's chiseled face with Dante's.

"Sparda." Dante's voice broke my thoughts as he ran his fingers along the name written below the painting, "Dad..."

"Ah, I hate to interrupt your moment, but" My ax &amp; wings sprung forth before I could even finish my own thought, "we've got company &amp; he doesn't look friendly."

Fucking Ravager demons. They're ugly &amp; they're loud... Mostly because they think chain-saws make the perfect accessory... &amp; limb.

"As cute as you look with black wings &amp; a battle ax," Dante pulled Rebellion (a sword that would make any Valkyrie swoon, which of course only irritated me) from his arsenal, "Stealth isn't exactly their thing. Hear these fuckers a mile away" The Demon-Slayer executed a perfect flip &amp; bisected the creature before I could even swing my weapon. This both impressed &amp; disappointed me. In addition, there was the fact that any man of battle knows that destruction &amp; humiliation of an opponent is the true way to a Valkyrie's heart. Not like I'd ever tell him though... &amp; I hope he wasn't privy to that information.

"C'mon, pretty sure I've got more painful memories to revisit. You're probably totally into that too, right?" That devil smirk straight from hell with a twist of temptation slid across his face like I would never be given a choice in resiting it.

I would have slapped him, but tapping into my Valkyrie nature makes me more tactical than petty: "Lead the way, Emo Kid. I always love a good razor blade party." So maybe I was still a little petty.

That mansion was filled with things I could only dream of. Art across ages. Literature that was classic in the sense that it was first print. Ornate decorations that alluded to everything from the Age of Rome to Victorian Era paraphernalia. I was in awe. Until it dawned on me that Dante didn't grow up in this world... It was as foreign to him as it was I. God I loathed it when identified with him.

After I sliced through my third howling whore witch of that adventure, (yes, they are a real thing &amp; probably more annoying than fucking Ravagers) across the cracked &amp; skewed Limbo version of Dante's childhood home, I stopped him in my gaze, "As much as I love killing things that annoy the shit out me... This place is wearing on you &amp;-"

He smirked a bit, "And?" Dante's dark mohawk-esque hair was all disheveled &amp; his eyes were wild with the fire of battle. It skewed my focus for a sliver of second.

I huffed searching for the least genuine but slightly honest words I could find, "We're both bored."

"I want to find her." His hands found my own, "I remember her..." His mother. "Just barely &amp; I know I'm fucked up, but I need to prove to myself that I'm not crazy."

That made me smirk. He put his index finger over my lips before I could get a witty quip out, "If you say anything, I promise I will silence you in a way that will make you feel more naked than I do here... Also, it might involve some groping."

I pushed him off, "I love how you use humor as shield."

His dark chuckled danced through limbo like a playful melody, "Oh because you're never guilty of that?" His dark, cocked brow dared me to challenge him.

/./././././././.

When you're a Valkyrie tube-tops quickly become your best friends. My outfit for the lovely Virility tour was fun, but more importantly functional: black tube-top, tiny black cargo shorts, &amp; knee-high combat boots. Because, you know what, fuck anything that dared challenge me or my Wednesday Adams fashion-sense.

And it amazed me how once my Wings made their way out, all fear was gone &amp; my mind lay abandoned to only the ways of a tactician.

I was judge, jury, &amp; prosecutor of the battlefield so bring on the war.

"You know," Dante began as he made his way through the dank array of empty freight containers that seemed to be the default stairway through Limbo in that disgusting factory, "Not that the Goth-Merc** look you have going on there doesn't do anything for me, but once you allow the Valkyrie to take hold, it washes over me like some crazy aphrodisiac &amp; I want all out bloodshed."

"You're welcome." I unholstered my ax scanning my surroundings, "I expect to find nothing less than filth here."

Dante's small chuckle drew my eyes to him. The Dark haired Demon-Slayer stood resolute with crossed arms &amp; a cocked brow. I met his mischievous stare with analytical eyes &amp; wings spread wide. My voice even, "What's funny?"

"Nothing Lady Justice," He started but his own stupid-ass chuckling stifled him.

"What?" I questioned more agitated &amp; my nostrils slightly flared.

"Justice," He re-doubled his efforts to remain serious through the completion of his thought while his devil grin continued to twist, "It's like the mantle you secretly carry, isn't it? It's what you crave above all else?"

I sighed &amp; turned my eyes back to our surroundings as I lept to take flight; my landing on the next freight container exerted no more effort than taking a simple step. Upon landing, I turned back to him; one hand rested on my hip while the other hand firmly held my ax: "You're just now figuring this out? I've got a chip on my shoulder larger than your ego."

He let out another deep chuckled as he jumped the distance between his container &amp; mine. He landed next to me &amp; stumbled into me a bit with slight snicker. One of his arms quickly snaked it's way around my waist as he played it off like he was steadying his balance, "After you got over the initial fear, you're right at home."

I motioned to the dank, filthy, vermin-infested background that was our surroundings, "Yes, you caught me. I love hell-holes in Limbo." I pushed him off me &amp; made my way forward, "What do you think they charge for rent here?"

Sarcasm: No better way to say let's change the fucking topic.

"Ten bucks &amp; three shots of Jack says you would've been a vigilante if you didn't have to hide." I heard Dante call from behind me. It stopped me in my tracks, but I made my halt appear as though I was dissecting the world around us in search of hidden threats.

"Is that so Dr. Phil? Glad you're on the case." I didn't bother to look at him, because my thoughts &amp; feelings were none of his fucking business anyway. I flew a few more containers ahead for good measure.

The boy was fast. He was beside me before the sounds of his first jump in my direction finished registering in my senses.

Dante flipped me to face his devil smirk, "How does it feel to face your fears &amp; realize you can murder them &amp; everything that destroys this world? How does it feel to take _his_ power away?"

It irritated me so that he was assessing my emotional triumphs, but I'd be lying if I said that the angry hate surging through me didn't feel good, or didn't feel as though I was Mundus' worst nightmare embodied in a bitter bitch. So I decided on a half-truth for the moment, "Like Jack or a good Scotch. Now shut up. We have demons to kill."

"I don't see anything." Dante drew his ax-which he affectionately called the Arbiter.

"Stop using your eyes," I chided, "It's not about seeing." I took flight, "I'm a Valkyrie; I know victors &amp; I sense losers...guess who's cowering?" I darted for a witch who thought her cloaking spell was cute.

My blade to her face was ten times as cute.

Unfortunately, that execution unleashed a cluster-fuck of demonic activity. Four Death knights, Three Ravagers, &amp; five Harpies.

"Thanks, Val," Dante snickered, "You really know how to throw a party."

"Sorry," Three Harpies immediately descended on me like swam of vultures (too bad vultures are prettier); their screeching ripped at my ears. One swing of my ax easily sliced threw two of them. The flying gore nearly drove my battle-aura into over-drive but control was key here.

"I got tired of pretending I didn't notice this group's brand of stealth." My left gave the final Harpie a hook before my ax delivered the finishing blow.

"It's alright," Dante sliced one Ravager in half before letting out a laugh &amp; launching himself airborne. This caused another Ravager to accidentally attack an unfortunate Harpie. Dante unleashed his Scythe mid-air &amp; his final descent consisted of a calculated swing with the punctuation being yet another swing once his feet touched the next container in the make-shift staircase.

The result was the deaths of the last Harpie, the last Ravager, &amp; severe damage to a Death Knight. I could have sworn the entire thing happened in slow-motion.

"I hate being bored." He stated. The way that long, leather jacket fell behind him, his desire for war, his choppy, dark hair, his eyes...

The sight was enough to drive my inner Valkyrie wild. The sane part of me hated it, but...

A battle-cry erupted from my mouth &amp; I was nearly giddy as I raced through the air to end the suffering of the wounded Death Knight. My ax separated his head from his neck with ease.

Dante &amp; I closed in on the remaining Death knight. It didn't stand a chance. I almost laughed as the incarnated evil, the instrument of Mundus, ping-ponged between the blades of Dante &amp; myself. He fell before he could swing his sword.

Dante's eyes were so intense they swallowed my gaze as he stepped over our enemies body, "I can't imagine how fun you would be at a Club."

"Bet you'll never find out." I was a little breathless but so energized I almost felt like I needed to leash my Valkyrie nature.

Dante took a step closer &amp; rested a gloved hand on my face, "Alight Wednesday Adam's," He moved in closer as his eyes held mine &amp; he hovered too close to my lips; _Would you Fuck off already, _Dante?. That was all I could think... over &amp; over...

The gruffness of his voice broke my mental cursing, "Lead us to the next party."

I pushed him off thoroughly irritated that he had almost seemed to read into my own assessments of myself &amp; that he was forcing my brain to go places I never gave it permission to. I huffed, "I'm not hired entertainment &amp; if I was, Odin knows, you couldn't fucking afford me."


	13. Go Home, Val You're Drunk

To everyone who reads, follows, messages, &amp; all around show me love: thank you. It's nice to know I am not alone in my journey through insanity, writer's block, &amp; lame fandom ;). This is for you all; you keep this going. Take some credit it for because you deserve it 3

So let's get down to it:

/./././././././././././././././.

There was this strange occurrence, somewhere deep inside my chest, when I witnessed Dante gaze upon his mother's portrait for the first time-in what must have seemed eons to him. His face froze &amp; the hard pressed line his lips made...It made me feel; I think it's what they call emotions? I didn't like it. 1. because emotions are gross &amp; I don't understand them &amp; 2\. (the far more dangerous of reasons) it made me connect with Dante; it reinforced the battle-bond I shared with him; it made me relate to him because I shared that moment with him intimately &amp; I couldn't fucking rip it from my soul though I made a valiant effort to.

I watched his hand shake as he reached toward her; I heard the slight quiver in his voice. I listened to his bullshit lies to hide the fact that he was fighting tears &amp; I understood every second of it... Because I missed my mother too. I missed my family &amp; my childhood was also void of them. He wanted his rightful place in the world with his loved ones as did I... Instead, we were drifters, the orphans, the lonely, the forgotten.

The next thing I knew, I was full-on Valkyrie and charging through Limbo like a hell-beast's worst nightmare. I needed to get Dante out of there &amp; I needed to be sure Vergil never saw Dante's momentary weakness or discovered the fact that Dante's original home had inspired feelings that left him vulnerable to suggestion, perhaps.

I dragged Dante through that hell-hole &amp; took him home as soon as the opportunity presented itself, because fuck Vergil's attempts to play with Dante's emotions.

What I didn't realize at the time was, perhaps, Dante was not Vergil's intended target. Perhaps, it was my emotions that Vergil was toying with. Hindsight is twenty, twenty... because it was from then on that Dante possessed more of my emotions than I could have ever anticipated.

The first time I truly dwelled on the fact that I actually cared for Dante, (that I would miss him, cry for him, fight for him-ya know, stupid girly shit)I nearly lost my mind. When you pair that realization with the fact that the Demon King himself had a blood-hunt gathered to sniff out my scent...well, chipping away at my sanity wasn't a very difficult task &amp; it was a fucktastic recipe for disaster; it affected me more than I should have ever allowed it to. But hey, even Valkyries aren't perfect.

When Dante was around, I would be as cold and distant as I could physically muster. I constantly shoved headphones in my ears and would turn the music up to deafening proportions. I reinforced the wall that I had already put up &amp; I would reach for the bottle as often as I would reach for the music. No, it wasn't among my prettiest moments, but I didn't fucking care. Survival was the only language I could speak and suddenly the rules had changed on me. Suddenly, there was more than just myself to factor into an equation I had solved in my sleep a million times prior. Yet suddenly, I just didn't have it in me to define 'x'.

The first few nights Dante just gave me space. Innately, he understood that I was wading through my own internal bullshit and I would have to get my brain together on my own accord.

That would have been a smart decision had I actually decided to pull myself through the muck I was wading through, but I didn't. I decided to sit in it and pout like a little bitch, because my fear was (unfortunately) getting the better of me. I know it's crazy to imagine a fucking Valkyrie being afraid of something, but I'm not immortal and pain is not beyond me. All creatures fear both pain and death.

And it wasn't the death that I might face that I feared. It was what Mundus would do to me before he killed me. Ten years didn't erase the hell Mundus had fed me almost every day prior to that. Repression is great, but its the essence of caging a beast that is pissed off and determined to get free, and every ounce of that pain burned like acid...

Then there were the feelings that suddenly made me realize I feared what he would do to Dante far more...those feelings had begun to posses me wholly &amp; they were too terrifying for me to even hate the fact that Dante had, had such an effect on me.

Dante quickly realized that I was allowing my own crazy to swallow me up like quick sand. I could tell that he tried to be patient about it, but it's Dante. Patience is not necessarily one of his virtues... You know, if he ever tried to posses any virtues.

He would make little quips and snotty fucking comments in hopes of rousing me from my bullshit, but me (being the bitch that I am) just decided to dig in deeper.

Then there was the evening when Dante came in looking like God-awful hell. His jeans had been shredded up his right calf and the denim was charred in smatterings here and there. His gray dego tee was now permanently maroon, thanks to whatever the fuck had decided to hemorrhage all over him. Dante looked like he had taken a few good hits to the face (nothing that would bruise for long, but still). I guess he should have been happy he hadn't worn his precious jacket that day.

I (of course) was drunk out of my mind. The door of the trailer had swung open with all the force of his rage and the moment he stepped in, I immediately burst into a cackling bitch fit because he was such a fucking sight to see. He threw his pistols down on the table and that only increased my drunken giggle fit. I could not hear a god damn thing either. I had ear-buds shoved in my ears and music cranked as loud as I could get it so when Dante's mouth began moving only his pissy expression told me that he was fucking irritated as shit with me &amp; my drunken nonsense...

…To which I howled in laughter, against all the bells and whistles my self-preservation littered my brain with.

Just as I watched Dante mouth the word 'fuck', he ripped my ear-buds out. I, of course, responded with a slurred: "Heeey! Whaa da fuque?!"

"I can't watch this shit anymore!" He swiped the bottle of Jack from the table.

"Bring it baaaque. I neeeed dat." I would have gotten up but I was too drunk and didn't have many fucks to give at that moment. Ok, I didn't have any fucks to give. I was fuck-free that day &amp; I had zero plans on changing that.

"You need to get the fuck over your emo-bullshit; that's what you need!" He hurled the bottle of Jack at the wall with so much force it was a blur until the explosion of glass and liquor... or I was just that drunk, probably both.

The sound of shattering glass hit my one sober nerve like fire and all my rage boiled over the to the surface, "What the fuck is wrong with you!?" I at least sounded a little more sober, but I swayed as I got to my feet. I also, ironically, found a few fucks to give. I guess that's my natural reaction when someone disrespects Jack like that.

Dante was in my face before I could take a breath, "Me?! At least I can fucking stand up straight!"

"Fuck you!" I spat, hate and defiance dripped from my tone. I didn't give an inch as Dante &amp; I stood eye-to-eye.

"I never thought I would see you so weak and defeated, but it's like you've already given the fuck up. Don't even bother to fight. You're helpless like this."

Those words burned straight through my soul worse than the acidic emotions Mundus had inspired within me earlier. I would've screamed if my insides didn't hurt so much. Dante had stolen my voice from me &amp; I fucking hated him for it.

So I did the only thing I knew how to do when all else failed, I threw a punch.

Of course, Dante grabbed my wrist out of the air twisted it and (predictably) I went with it, "C'mon Val, where's your fight?! Don't be such a pussy, fight me!"

I couldn't stop it; a Valkyrie screech came barreling from my lungs as my free fist connected with Dante's chin. My wings ripped from my back with a powerful flap. That action, caused Dante to lose his balance, and gave me a clear path to the exit.

Score.

"I don't need to fight or fucking justify myself to you when I can just leave!" I spat as I glided through the doorway.

I heard Dante call out, "Val, don't be stupid! Don't leave!"

But I was more interested in how the public would react to the 15ft wing-span of a drunk Valkyrie.

I was as entertained as I had predicted. Men, women, &amp; children of all ages ran &amp; scurried. My best guess said they thought I (the black-winged wonder) had come to pour Apocalypse nectar. I laughed at the thought. Silly humans. I only meant to end Mundus. Not them. Also, Apocalypse nectar sounded delicious right about then.

I then had the slightest hint of a 'smart' moment because I mentally reminded myself that I was drawing too much attention too close to home &amp; then, that was exactly where my 'intelligent' moment of the day ended, because I decided to take flight...instead of putting my wings away &amp; taking my drunk ass back inside.

Instead, I seemed to believe a winged, intoxicated creature making its way through the sky is really fucking covert.

Granted, I had the cover of night, but guess who owned the night? And no, it's not vampires &amp; no, it's not Santa. It's also not vampire Santa... (Ps. I'm pretty sure Vampire Santa is way more fun at parties than Mundus).

Despite my inebriated state, my speed was incredible. I had made it half-way across Limbo City before I got the horrid feeling I was not alone. Though the presence pursuing me was land-bound, I knew I was most definitely within its grasp &amp; even if (by some miracle) I wasn't, it would just wait for me to tire.

Now I don't know about you, but in my life, I have never gotten anywhere by pro-longing inevitable fights. Typically, it seems that facing challenges head on is a wise decision... You know, minus the fact that I was hammered at that time.

The first thing that assaulted my senses was the smell. It was like leather that had been soaked in vinegar for years &amp; then left out in the sun to dry. The wet dog smell had nothing on this. The scent was both acidic &amp; animal in nature. If it wasn't for my vast experience with alcohol, the scent alone would have made me vomit until I passed out.

As I cast my gaze downward, I could see the long, bounding strides of a gangly, ape-like creature. Its face was adored with a deep scare &amp; it left the creature with only a large opening for a nasal passage. This deformed, gaped passage allowed for the unearthly snorts &amp; huffs the creature produced as it pursued me.

The creature was lined with tattered, tufts of fur along its body &amp; its piss-yellow eyes glared at me from below with the hunger for the hunt.

Therefore, it was completely within reason that I just drunkenly shouted, "Oh yea? Fuck you, Ape Dick!"

In response, Ape-Dick leaped upward towards me &amp; growled, "Watch your tongue, Valkyrie."

So naturally, after evading his attack, I stuck my tongue out at him &amp; gave him the one finger salute.

The beast let out a hellish growl &amp; shot at me with a grappling gun. The gun pierced my left thigh &amp; as soon as it did, my ax came out swinging. As I hurdled toward the beast (pulled by that fucking hook), I spat a slew of insulting obscenities &amp; hacked at its shoulder once I came within range.

Of course, it shrieked &amp; howled in irritation as my blade chopped through its leathery, coarse flesh, but fuck him. There was a hook through my left thigh &amp; I have never been one to cry in pain... just get even.

After I nearly severed the creature's left arm off in retribution (for the pain he'd caused me), I cut the cord that bound me to the ugly ape's gun. As I created distance between us, the creature's piss-yellow eyes narrowed at me. I realized the severity of my intoxicated state in that moment because the demon's glare caused me to cackle in laughter... despite the blood spilling from my wound.

Upon landing, the full understanding of the size difference between this creature &amp; I began to take affect. Even with my large wing span, I was nothing but an ant in comparison to the ugly son of a bitch.

Whatever. Fuck him. I've had worse.

"You're a foolish being." Its voice was as distorted as its face, "I do not understand why Lord Mundus even bothers with you." The ape-like thing produced a large knife upon completion of his statement. The problem with this knife was that it was tailored to the being's size... which meant the knife &amp; I were roughly the same height. Fuck.

"Then stop caring." I retorted as I stared down the behemoth, "He's a shitty fucker anyways."

My words must have pissed the creature off because the next thing I knew, it was barreling toward me destroying everything in its path. My favorite part of that entire moment was that I was so fucking drunk I hadn't realized I had been pulled into Limbo until he hit me &amp; my arm spewed discolored blood. Everything was painted in hues of darkness. My blood was not rich crimson, but listless black.

Of course I was in Limbo, otherwise such a creature could not appear. Duh.

My body flew through the air when the ape-fuck hit me, but my wings quickly redeemed me.

I chuckled, "Oooh. That almost hurt."

"Foolish, drunken, battle maiden," the creature snarled, "You are not my prey. I seek the son of Sparda."

"Tough shit," I shouted with my charged, "You get me!" I took another heavy swing at the area of the creature's arm I had already badly damaged. I grew giddy in laughter when its arm fell from its body limply to the street.

Unfortunately, that victory was short-lived as the large creature wrapped his fingers around the cord dangling from the grappling hook still embedded in my leg. This action not only sent me flying several feet, but also effectively ripped the hook from my leg &amp; my blood began spitting in several directions. Fuck.

I bit my lip as I muffled the scream that wanted to come barreling from my chest. I tried to catch myself but I quickly realized that my wounded leg could not support my weight so I had to rely on my wings. Just what every drunk girl needs, a mortal wound &amp; good fight. Not.

"Stupid bitch," the creature snorted with a cackle as it encroached upon me, "If you wish to die this night, fine, but I come baring a gift for the wretched offspring of Eva."

Eva. Eva was Dante's mother...Suddenly, I was much more sober than I wanted to be. All of the pain from my injuries came coursing through me &amp; I became aware of the blinding red gem in the middle of the creature's forehead.

It was the eye of the Osiris... I had only heard Mudus speak of it once in my entire captivity but based on those few words, I understood it poisoned the mind of whom ever it was implanted within &amp; the ugly fucking creature intended to place it in Dante's skull.

Fuck that.

My blood was pouring everywhere, but I didn't give a fuck. My wings still worked &amp; I was overwhelmed by my own pissy nature. _How dare this fucker touch me. How dare this ugly piece of shit try to steal what little I have left. How dare this fucking beast target Dante! _

"Fucking Dante," I cursed under my breath because once again that cocky bastard had found a way to influence my actions &amp; inspire anger when someone threatened him. Damn emotions.

"Fuck your presents; it isn't fucking Christmas &amp; you're an ugly fucking Santa," I roared as I charged the beast in a crazed, zig-zag fashion until I reached a good height to dive from. Once there, I shot out of the sky like a war-missle. Ape-asshole tried to slice at me with his over-sized dagger, but he missed.

With both hands firmly wrapped around my ax, I wound up for one helluva swing. It had to count while I still had the strength to make it count.

The ax buried itself smack-dab in the middle of the eye of the Osiris (&amp; subsequently the creature's skull). The red gem shattered with a waterfall-esque effect. This of course, caused a smile to twist across my face. Watching the palm-sized gem rain to the ground gave me the satisfaction that my wounds weren't in vain.

The sound of thunder lashed across the sky &amp; distracted for a mere millisecond. Unfortunately, that small distraction was all that ugly fuck needed to retaliate. His knife hand (&amp; only hand at that point) took a quick stab at me. I managed to evade it and rip my ax from the creature's face, but while retrieving my weapon, I left myself blinded.

After pushing away from the creature a few feet, he caught me with a powerful backhand that plunged me into the wall of a nearby building. Several violent lighting strikes spider webbed across the sky behind the creature, making him an ominous silhouette.

"I'm not going out like this." I whispered as thunder swallowed the sound of my voice.

I pushed myself to my feet &amp; as the pain washed over me with an inescapable nausea, I knew I had more broken bones than functional ones at that point. I used my wings to ease the pain by lifting myself from the ground; however, with each movement of my wings, my spine screamed in a fiery fury that almost stole my breath.

As if fate decided to further bend me over, the sky opened up &amp; began pouring rain upon my broken body. The added weight of the water almost made me pass out.

_No, I have to live. I. Must. Live. _

"Give up, Valkyrie, You have lost, though I was entertained." The creature snorted from its distance.

I tried to lift my ax but it was futile. My arm was broken. Everything was broken. I was broken.

It was at that moment, I heard a gunshot &amp; a then instantly felt electrifying pain in my left eye. The creature howled in laughter.

"Not that you'll live," The creature boomed slowly walking toward me, "But I left you with a parting gift since you took my arm. I wonder, how much damage can a Valkyrie's head take before it stops regenerating?..I suppose I should thank you for shattering the eye of the Osiris into so many pieces. One for the annoying Valkyrie &amp; one for the son of Sparda... Why hadn't I thought of that earlier?"

Fuck.

I did have one trick up my sleeve, but I didn't like resorting to magic... it costs my body a lot &amp; I was barely clinging to life as it were. I didn't have the time I needed to regenerate, but fuck it. All I had to do was buy enough time to conjure up what I needed &amp; hope that this creature was damaged enough for the curse to take affect.

"Well, you're fucking stupid." I spat, "If it's broken, logically its lost its power." I didn't know if it was true. In fact, I was pretty certain it wasn't true. Best case scenario said that a shard still had the powers of the original Eye, but greatly reduced.

However, my statement had the affect I needed it to. The ape-asshole paused his advance to ponder my words. I'm sure the head-wound I gave him wasn't helping his thought process in the least.

My body began to pulse with my will-power. I only hoped this was something Ape-Fucker couldn't sense... or that the wound in his head left him too distracted. Of course, this was a gamble. If I used too much of my will, I wouldn't be able to heal &amp; then I was fucked.. Then again, in that moment it seemed I was fucked either way.

The creature began to screech in maniacal laughter, "I almost want to let you live."

"Yea, why's that, dickhead?" I spat. I just needed a few more seconds...

"I said 'almost'" He growled, "Just to see if that shard drives you to insanity &amp; you die by trying to dig it out of your own skull!" He began to encroach upon me once again.

"Clearly, you've never fucked with a Valkyrie before." I snarled. He hit a nerve because he could be right. It didn't matter though. I would never stop fighting. Ever. I am a Valkyrie &amp; that's just what we fucking do.

"Foolish bitch." He grinned raising his weapon, "I'll leave you in so many pieces even the Son of Sparda won't recognize you."

The rain felt like knives as I struggled to raise my ax. I reminded myself to quit being a bitch &amp; fight through the pain. Ironically, that thought only served to fortify my will-power. The spell was ready.

"You're still going to fight? Stupid, insignificant-" That was all I allowed Ape-asshole to speak.

"Gehen Sie zur Hel!" I shouted using my ax as a conduit for the curse. The creature's body was instantly illuminated with a red-hot glow. I could see all his veins, arteries, &amp; grotesque heart. They all screamed in unison. His head &amp; arm wounds spurted blood in a spigot-like fashion. Ape-dick was in so much pain that it left him soundless until he collapsed. Good.

I couldn't be sure if the curse had actually killed him, because I held back. There was no sense in using the damn thing if it killed me. I was so fucked up at that point I only had one real option: hiding &amp; hoping for the best.

It wasn't my favorite option, but survival was the goal... It irritated me but I felt like I at least needed to live long to apologize to Dante for being a pig-headed asshole... Then again, fuck emotions: A mantra to live by.

/./././././././././././././././

"You have got to be fucking kidding me." I stared down the long, metallic death trap that consisted of criss-crossing steel beams which descended to spinning death wheel below (and by death wheel, I mean industrial fan, but whatever-semantics).

"What?" Dante quipped, "The winged-girl afraid of heights?" He seemed amused by the way it took him so little effort to irritate me. Fuck him. I wasn't amused &amp; the idea of diving face first into a spinning meat grinder wasn't anymore appealing.

I scoffed at him &amp; turned to Kat, "Alright, what's the plan to make this free-fall with an updraft a little more manageable for team Smart-Ass?"

Kat set her pack back before her with a soft thud, "This. It's a spell"

It was a fucking egg-timer.

"You mean a fucking egg-timer?" Dante jeered before I could mouth the words.

"It'll work. Promise." Kat's eyes went lifeless as she twisted the small device, muttered a few barely audible sounds, &amp; tossed it into the pit behind Dante &amp; I.

"All set." She breathed as she rose from crouching over her bag.

"What? That's it? And now I'm just supposed to throw my ass on in?" I could hear the ticking of the timer in the distance but it did little to persuade my feet to leap off the ledge.

"Pssh," Dante chuckled, "You only die once." And with that, the dumb, cocky, irritating, pain-in-the-fucking-ass nephilum saluted Kat &amp; I (sarcasticlly, I might add) as he leaned backward into free fall.

"Bet I beat you there!" He called to me as he quickly descended.

"God fucking Damnit." I muttered &amp; turned to Kat, "We die. I find a way to haunt you that's witch-proof, got it?" I didn't even wait for a response. I dove over the edge like a missile &amp; self-preservation be damned.

Dante was already twisting his body in anticipation for impact. I felt my insides &amp; equilibrium protest as suddenly, a wave of dizziness &amp; nausea swept over me as if the world around me was spinning while I remained in place.

The funny part was I felt that way because it was... Kat's spell had worked. A death-drop tunnel that had been vertical mere moments ago was now a horizontal platform.

Dante twisted &amp; slid. He was graceful enough about it that his slide easily broke into a run. I (on the other hand) had been in diving-flight so my stop was far less poetic.

I spanned my wings out as far as I could in order to slow myself, I was successful but took all my remaining speed &amp; tumbled forward into Dante... who immediately started laughing at me.

"Fuck you!" I pushed him aside, stood, dusted myself off, &amp; took off running in the direction of the succubus' chamber, "Let's just get this fucking over with."

The egg-timer's ticking was growing louder &amp; nothing about that felt reassuring...

"It's getting faster." Dante called out from behind me.

"Thanks Capt. Derp!" I growled. The silhouette of spinning fan blades ahead left me feeling uneasy. Not really the way I'd prefer to go.

A wave of nausea began to wash over me again &amp; an almost breathless curse escaped my breath. My wings began to do what came natural.

The ticking. The goddamn ticking. Faster &amp; Faster..like the thumping heart beat in my chest. Every passing second threatening to feed us to a human-sized meat grinder.

We were vertical again before I could barely blink &amp; Dante was tumbling toward the blade as the egg-timer's bell sounded.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I've always wanted to fight a meat grinder.

I was diving toward the asshole before I could come up with a solid plan. If I recall correctly though, I am pretty sure it went something like: live.

_Yea, I can do that_.

Cue the internal sigh.

My fingers wrapped around Dante's wrist as I used my falling momentum to swing us into an off-shoot of the wind tunnel of death.

In that instant, any sacrifice of speed meant less percentage points in the 'live' column so I did very little to hold back. This meant that once we were in the clear, I had very little control over stopping &amp; by very little control I mean absolutely no fucking control.

Dante &amp; I bounced a few feet before rolling to a painful stop.

"Ow." Dante whined as he hovered above me in a sitting position.

It was then I realized he was on one of my wings &amp; promptly shoved him off (again).

"Ever thought about taking flight lessons?" Dante's devil-grin was plastered across his face.

"I'm not the one who almost fell into a giant fan," I pulled myself to my feet without letting him see me wince in pain &amp; spat, "By the way, you're fucking welcome, dick."

I didn't give him the satisfaction of looking back at him as I charged forward. It's not like he was going to stop following me anyways.

Cue yet another internal sigh.


End file.
